


Forbidden Fruit

by AnonymousMink



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU after Avengers, BAMF Darcy Lewis, Darcy Lewis Taser of Gods, Dysfunctional Childhoods, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Every. Single. One., F/M, Frigga doesn’t die, Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis Friendship, LOOKS LIKE WE’RE DOING THIS KIDS, Literally every Tasertricks trope you can think of will be in this fic, Magic Fruit, Magic!Darcy, Mentioned Abusive Parents, Post-Avengers (2012), Pre-Thor: The Dark World, Reconciliation, Redemption, Romance, Slow Burn, morally ambiguous loki, tasertricks - Freeform, when snark meets mischief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 13:10:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 96,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18550432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousMink/pseuds/AnonymousMink
Summary: ———————————-Maybe it was the please that did it but Jane finally met her gaze, worrying at her lip for a split second before she blurted out, “you ate a magic apple and now you’re some kind of immortal.”“I’m a…” Darcy blinked twice, swallowed once and shook her head, “nope, okay, rewind. What?”——————————-Darcy Lewis learned nothing from fairytales.After eating an honest to god(dess) magic apple she finds herself the unwilling heiress of the powers of Eris, Goddess of Chaos. Stuck on Asgard as she struggles for control, things go from ‘weird’ to ‘oh hell no’ when she’s thrown together with Mr Tall, Dark, and Murderous himself. She wants nothing to do with Loki, no matter what Thor’s mom says about things not always being what they seem, but she might not have a choice. With her control wavering and her powers threatening to go nova she comes to realise he might just be the one person alive who can help her, whether she likes it or not.((Slow burn Tasertricks set after the first Avengers and going blissfully off canon after that point, because it’s apparently still 2012 in my head.)





	1. Lessons from Eve

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look, another fic I promised myself I wouldn’t write! XD It’s my first time tackling these kids so hopefully everything goes well, I have a vague idea where this is going but honestly who knows, it’s kind of turning into a beast of its own making! Buckle in guys!
> 
> Huge shout out to RogueSareth for beta’ing this for me and convincing me it wasn’t total gibberish! I really appreciate it!

 

The post it note stuck to her computer would have been illegible to anyone else, the scribbled sentence looking more like the death throes of an ink-coated spider than actual written words.

Darcy Lewis smiled smugly to herself, the ability to read Jane’s handwriting was one of the many skills that made her invaluable as her assistant. That, her organizational expertise, and in today’s case, coffee getting abilities.

Now if only she could _actually_ get paid for it.

 _‘Bring the X4II to the lab ASAP,’_ Jane had written, then below it as an afterthought, ‘ _thank you!’_

“That’s my girl,” Darcy grinned, shifting the paper cups into one hand as she turned to grab the strange metallic instrument Jane wanted with the other, “acting like a real human being and everything.”

Humming to herself Darcy headed for the lab, pulling a move most contortionists would be proud of as she swiped her pass without dropping anything. Yet _another_ invaluable skill of hers.

And Karen said she never would amount to much. Ha!

“I brought the thing you wanted,” she called as she edged into the pristine lab, rocking back on her heels as the cups threatened to overbalance, “and coffee. Everyone needs coffee.”

It wasn’t until she’d set everything neatly on the side, _unspilt,_ and turned to receive her well earned thanks that she realised the lab was empty.

“Or not.”

For such a big ass place Stark tower was surprisingly empty, well the floor they were working on at least. Some new top secret science crisis had seen them jet from Sweden to New York in a flash. Darcy still didn’t fully understand what was going on but it all seemed very important. _And_ it had managed to distract Jane from the fact they were temporarily staying at Avengers HQ, so it had to be something super science-y.

Jane still wasn’t entirely over the fact that the God-who-shall-not-be-named swung into their universe during The Incident, saved the world, and never even bothered to call.

Big loveable alien jerk.

Grabbing her cup from the side Darcy sighed, there was no point in both of their drinks getting cold just because Jane had temporarily forgotten her. Again. Cradling it between her hands she moseyed further into the room in the hopes of finding another post it note explaining Jane’s absence, or whatever it was causing the weird readings that had dragged them out here in the first place.

A glint in the corner caught her eye, something shiny and gold and completely out of place in the cold white lab. She turned towards it, post-its forgotten. There, in a thick glass case, was a small golden object about the size and shape of an apple.

No, no wait.

It _was_ an apple.

_For real?_

No way was this Faberge knock off what had kept them from sleeping for the past two days, no matter how fancy a case they’d put it in. Squinting her eyes Darcy took a step closer, it looked like it had something written on it. Thick angular lines carved into its surface...

“ _Darcy no!_ ”

Her coffee spilt in slow motion, tumbling wildly away from her as thin hands yanked her backwards.

“Jane what the hell!” Darcy screeched, heart racing as she struggled against her friends surprisingly tight grip. She’d obviously done a better job that she’d thought making sure Jane got enough vitamin D. “That was Costa Rican!”

She didn’t have time to mourn the loss of her coffee, heart stopping completely as a dart gun was shoved in her face. A wicked looking needle projected from the end, pointing right between her eyes.

“Woah woah woah!” She froze, hands rising instinctively in surrender as she tried to force her gaze behind the gun. Getting an impression of a black visor and a stupid goatee as her knees turned to jelly, “what’s with the weaponry and grabbing, guys?”

Was it Shield? Was it a new super-villain? Oh please not a new super-villain, she didn’t want to die wearing her Hello Kitty laundry day panties with the broken elastic.

“You… you don’t want the apple?” Jane said from behind her, fingers clenched tight enough to bruise. Darcy winced, focusing on the pain to clear her mind.

“Uh… no, not particularly?” She hedged, eyes flicking between the shiny bauble and the big frickin’ needle still pointed directly at her face, “More of a coffee girl, at least I _was_ before someone spilt it. So like... can you put the gun down now?”

“It could be a trick,” Tony Stark’s voice came from beneath the visor, she _knew_ she recognised that facial hair, “a diversion.”

“What-” Jane’s grip loosened enough to let Darcy pull free, stepping back quickly to get them both in view. And oh yay Jane was wearing a creepy visor too, a trend she’d obviously missed out on, “-the actual hell guys? It’s just a - hey, I said put the gun down dude!”

She turned sharply as Tony tracked her with the weapon, trying to maintain eye contact as she edged towards the door. That’s what you did with angry bears right? Oh God she didn’t fucking know, she didn’t even know if they’d been brainwashed or not. Or brain slugged, that was totally a thing that could happen these days.

She really hated her life sometimes.

“I don’t understand,” Jane said, as if Darcy hadn’t spoken at all, turning to Tony with an incredulous tone in her voice, “everyone wants the apple.”

“Uh, why?” Darcy asked. They didn’t seem particularly violent anymore at least, maybe she was lucky. Maybe it wasn’t brain slugs. “I mean it’s shiny and all but what’s the big deal?”

Jane turned back to her and even through the visor Darcy recognised the look on her face, the slow daze of a science trance as Jane worked through theories Darcy could barely _pronounce_.

“Thaumatological resonance,” she said, nodding as if that explained everything, “or at least that’s our best guess, the hadronic cylinder is having difficulty scanning it’s post-physical properties.”

Definitely no brain slugs then. Just science. And _fruit._

Darcy blinked twice before turning to Stark.

He shrugged, lowering the dart gun at last, “magic. At least that’s the best we can come up with. You really don’t want it? No sudden violent urges to knock us down and take it for your own Rambo style?”

“Uh… no… should I?” She hitched an eyebrow, adrenaline still giving her the jitters as she looked between the scientists in their Blade Runner get ups.

“Everyone else does,” Tony shrugged, “Hence the swanky glasses - glasses! Maybe-”

“No,” Jane cut him off with a shake of her head, “one of the retrieval team was wearing glasses and one had contacts in, the proto-test has established anything other than a seventy five percent lead tint renders the wearer vulnerable to the objects ocular-magnetic properties. That’s what I was coming to to tell you. I must have forgotten to re-cover it...”

Darcy’s head was starting to hurt and she didn’t think it had anything to do with ocu-magnet-whatever apple.

“Hmm,” Tony reached over and jabbed her quickly in the shoulder with the butt of the dart gun, “brain damage maybe?”

“Hey!” Darcy yelped, jumping back indignantly, “uncalled for!”’

“Yeah!” Jane backed her up with a huff, then her face creased in a look of worried concern, “But um… _do_ you have a history of any cranial injuries? Maybe we could do an MRI...”

“My head is perfectly fine thank you!” Darcy sniffed, folding her arms tightly over her chest, “at least I’ve never had any complaints…”

Tony snorted but the joke went right over Jane’s head, cos of course it did. Sighing Darcy took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose, without them the apple was blurry but no more tempting.

“So uh... this is what you guys have been working on all night, huh?” She asked when no one else moved to fill the silence, “a weird golden apple?”

“Shield found it in a bunch of Roman ruins-“

“Greek,” Jane corrected primly, “it gives off the same resonance as other… non-terrestrial items we’ve discovered in the past.” _Nice way to avoid mentioning ‘Mewmew’ there Jane, and by proxy Thor,_ “but this has an effect on people we don’t fully understand yet. Well, everyone except…”

“Me, right?” Darcy shuddered, of course there was something wrong with her. _Had_ she been dropped on her head as a child? Heh, she wouldn’t put it past Karen, only dropping her would have involved picking her up in the first place... But that was a dark train of thought she didn’t have time for. Straightening her shoulders she gestured back to the case, time to get on it with Team Science. “So what does the writing say?”

“The writing?” Jane repeated in her puzzled scientist voice. Good _,_ that meant she wasn’t spiralling over the Thor-adjacent-topic, although Darcy made a mental note to pick up an extra pint of Chunky Monkey after work anyway. Better safe than sorry.

“Yeah the writing,” Darcy wiggled her fingers vaguely at the case, unwilling to get any closer in case Tony started getting trigger happy on her, “on the side there?”

“We haven’t been able to pick it up on camera,” Jane hurried towards the monitors, pulling up a blurry yellow blob which Darcy assumed was meant to be the apple, “it has some sort of disruptive field that Stark’s technology can’t bypass and the visors make it just as difficult to see the details.”

“Hey!” Tony interjected, “don’t blame the tech, Doc! This is top of the line stuff.”

“It still doesn’t make it any easier to get through the amalgamated static the object is projecting though does it! If your just let me configure the anti-matter detectors variance meter-”

“No, no way. I saw what you did to the stuff I left in your first lab. You give me the specs to improve on or you make your own damn phase shifter. _If_ you don’t blow us all up first.”

“Hey, hey-“ Darcy waved her hands uselessly before giving up and shouting, “ _listen up nerds!_ ”

“Rude.” Stark muttered, even as they both temporarily stopped their bickering to stare at her.

“Y’want me to just… look at it?” She offered, “copy it out the old fashioned way? Pen and paper?”

“Hmm,” Stark regarded her suspiciously even as Jane’s face lit up guiltily with the lure of _science_.

“If I suddenly get grabby you can tranq me or whatever,” she sighed, “anything to stop this nerd fight getting out of hand, the last thing we need is you two pulling each other’s hair all night.”

They both huffed but Tony nodded anyway, “Alright then Glasses, any funny business though and-”

“Yeah yeah,” Darcy muttered darkly, “I get a needle in the ass and a one way trip to sleepy town.”

“And we have to take some precautions first.” Jane said firmly.

It wasn’t until two hours later when she was approaching the apple in a modified hazmat suit that she considered this might have been a bad idea.

 _Really Darce,_ she chided herself, fingers sweating in the Jane-approved science gloves. _Just offer yourself up to get close to the crazy space apple. Great idea._

For all they knew the only reason the magic space fruit didn’t affect her was because it was saving up its power for something even more dastardly. There was a happy thought. Maybe she’d get lucky though, maybe it would just give her super powers or some shit. She could be the incredible Apple Girl, no wait that was reductive, Apple _Woman._ She could fight crime with her apple powers and…

“Remember Darcy,” Jane called from across the room, snapping her out of her anxiety-induced brain spiral, “you can walk away at any time, right now if you want, and if something happens-“

“I run, yes mom I know,” she murmured, covering her anxiety with snark. Cos she’d never done _that_ before. Still, Jane’s concern bolstered her, she _could_ walk away, but she wouldn’t, Darcy Lewis was no coward. “Okay then pretty apple, reveal your secret knowledge.”

Cos that had turned out _so_ well for Eve.

The words were carved into the apple’s surface, the light shining off it making it hard to read. Squinting through her glasses she carefully copied the first character onto her notebook, something that looked a bit like a ‘K’ and then an ‘a.

“I think it’s in Greek or something, which would make sense if you found it in Greece.” She said, ignoring the way her hand trembled ever so slightly as she worked. _Just a weird magic fruit,_ she reminded herself, _no biggie._ If she could just make out the rest of the text everything would be hunky dory. Life was never that easy though.  “I can’t see the end of the writing, the corner of the case is blocking it. Can I turn this thing around without… y’know… getting zapped or whatever?”

She could _feel_ the look the two scientists shared, Jane’s concern palpable as she waited for a response. The sooner they got this over with the better, she was getting way too hot in the science-suit, sweat breaking out in places she didn’t know _could_ sweat as she stood there.

“ _Guys_?”

“Agent Marcus touched it without any adverse reactions,” Jane said quickly, pearly white teeth sinking into her lip, “and Chang, there was no energy discharge…”

“But he did try to gouge someone’s eyes out in the process.” Stark cut in making Darcy shudder. Great, that was the exact mental image she needed right now.

“But if that was the result of the thaumatological resonance then it shouldn’t affect Darcy. If-”

“Still standing right here.” She interjected, shifting awkwardly on her feet at she glanced down at her half-finished notation and the innocently gleaming object in the centre of it all. She should have stuck to getting coffee and inputting data like she usually did, leave the magic fruit to the scientists and superheroes.

“Alright, okay then,” Stark nodded, sending her heart sinking as he lifted the dart gun higher, “I’ve got you covered.”

“Suddenly I feel so much better,” she mumbled to herself, setting the notebook aside so she could remove the back panel from the case and trying not to hyperventilate in the process. _Nothing._ Oh thank sweet baby Jesus, the apple remained just an apple. Beautiful, weird, but it didn’t make her desperate to grab it or anything.

The second sigh of relief came when she psyched herself up to pull it from the case and it reminded fruity but silent. No screaming, no shouting, no turning into a giant apple monster or whatever.

“Everything okay?” Jane asked, worry incarnate.

“Yup,” she nodded, hefting the apple in her hand as she lifted it for them to see, “just a shiny bit of fruit, see? No big whoop.”

It wasn’t as heavy as she expected, it might have looked like it was made of gold but it felt like any other apple. Smooth, firm, perfectly normal. It was kind of disappointing really. Shrugging she turned to copy down the last of the characters.

“Is there anything else strange about it?” Stark asked when she signalled she was done, “I mean _aside_ from the fact it’s a gold plated apple which drives people mad on sight.”

“Not that I can see,” Darcy shrugged, lifting it for a closer look. From here she could see the faint organic pattern in its skin and smell it’s crisp sweetness. It really was just an apple. Beautiful but utterly ordinary.

She dug her fingers into the skin of it, feeling it give beneath her hand. If she was being honest it was kind of making her hungry, lunch had been ages ago and she’d never even gotten to finish her coffee. Pulling her clear plastic visor up she raised it carefully to her nose and took a sniff.

“Smells like a normal apple,” she reported, “y’know… apple-y.”

Well, better than normal really. Crisp and ripe. She breathed in its freshness, practically tasting the sweetness of it on her tongue, feel it running down her throat as her teeth sank into it.

“ _Darcy what are you-”_

She didn’t have time to register the words, or the sharp shot of a dart embedding itself in her shoulder, all she could taste was stars in her mouth and fire in her veins as the apple fell from her hand.

 


	2. Snow White Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the lovely response for the first chapter! Really got my muse in gear :-D
> 
> Special thanks to RogueSareth and to SpoonlessLupie for taking the time to read and beta this beastie before I send it out into the world! I appreciate it so much <333
> 
> Now! On with the show, this time with 50% more Loki...

  


Loki was falling.

He _hated_ falling.

He’d been at it for so long it no longer felt like he was moving at all, trapped in molasses as the universe rushed past him in reverse. He’d tried to move at first, to flail and fumble, desperate to grab onto something, _anything,_ that might stop the endless descent.

He couldn’t.

There was nothing. Nothing but him, the void, and the endless, endless fall.

Or at least there had been.

Something grabbed him, snatching him up all at once. A hand like needles and stone, a voice like thunder, black rage and power crushing his head as he was dragged like a rag doll from the void.

He fell back into his body with a thud, lurching up in his cot as the memories threatened to overwhelm him. Hands reaching automatically for blades he no longer had. The cell. He was still in the cell, white walls blurring around him as he snapped his gaze around, still on high alert.

For a pitiful second he would never admit to he was almost grateful.Anything was better than _that_ place, even the ignominy of capture. At least here he had a chance for escape.

Still, something had woken him. Something had _changed._ A faint tug at the fabric of the universe that had his forehead creasing. He knew he hadn’t been blessed with his mother’s gift of foresight, it was one area of magic that had always eluded him, and yet…

And yet he couldn’t help but feel that something was coming.

Something _interesting._  


—-

 

The world was molten gold, twisting and undulating around her. Pretty. It was so pretty. A sea that flowed from her veins to the edges of the earth and back again, like the tide. Warm and welcoming and just a little bit painful, like an electric shock or a forbidden kiss.

Or a paper cut. A tattoo. A burn, oh shit it _burned._ Fire under her skin, beneath her eyes, boiling her from within as her back bowed. She couldn’t contain it, the gold rushing in and in and in until she was stretched thin, too thin, bursting at the seams with it.

“ _Darcy please, open your eyes - Darce-”_ words, words in a familiar voice. Words for her, “ _I promise I’ll never make you clean the van again, or monitor the atmospheric waves or-”_

“Keep that up and I’ll be out of a job,” Darcy croaked, the burning pain washing away into a dull throb at the back of her brain. Dull and ordinary as she struggled to sit up in her bed, molten seas forgotten as she looked around the hospital room. “What happened?”

A truck maybe? Food poisoning? _Alcohol_ poisoning? There was that bottle of Grey Goose in the freezer she’d been threatening to make martinis with, had she…

“Darcy!” Jane flung herself onto the bed, bony arms threatening to crush her as she hugged her tight, “thank God, oh thank God you’re alive you… you absolute idiot!”

“Ow!” Darcy protested as Jane thwacked her in the shoulder, “What did I do?”

“You ate the apple!”

Darcy frowned, rubbing her already aching shoulders. “Ate what apple? Who am I, Snow White? What are you… oh… oh wait.” The memories shuffled in awkwardly, letting themselves back in like they’d just got back from a walk of shame, “ _that_ apple. Whoops.”

“Whoops?!” Janes eyebrows shot up so fast they threatened to disappear into her hairline, “you just ingested a dangerous object of extra-terrestrial origin, endangering yourself and everyone around you and you say _whoops?!”_

“My bad?” She offered weakly, guilt squeezing her stomach.

“ _You could have killed yourself Darcy!”_

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She held her hands up weakly, “but I didn’t right? I feel fine, honest. I guess I just wasn’t as immune to it as I seemed. It was like a delayed reaction or something, but hey, no harm done.”

She did feel fine, actually better than fine. Amazing really. Swinging her legs off the bed she bounced upright, energy rushing through her like a dozen cups of coffee after a great nap.

“See?” She grinned, reaching for her glasses automatically and perching them on her nose. “Fine and dandy!”

“Darcy I don’t think you should be doing that,” Jane flitted around her like a hummingbird, worried as always. She shouldn’t have been though, Darcy felt better than she had in years! Whatever was in that apple they should market it, they could make a fortune.

“Stop worrying boss lady,” now she just needed some clothes, something other than her paper hospital gown that was… “Hey, you know what? We should go clubbing!”

A fantastic idea! She could dance all this wonderful energy out, all those people all that music. Not in this dress though, no she’d stop and get changed first. Something sparkly and fun.

“You hate clubbing, Darce.”

“Eh, a girl can change her mind.” Did they have time to change? If she could just find her freaking jeans that would do, no need to get fancy, “But fine, let’s go to Times Square then. We’ve been in New York for how long and we’ve never even seen it.”

Ooh, neon screens, neon screens and shouting and fun. She could practically see it, her mind lighting up with shiny gold bursts of ideas, each better than before.

“Really, I don’t think-”

“Don’t think!” She heard herself say, too loud, too fast, her voice picking up speed as she struggled to keep up with the whirlwind in her skull and find her pants at the same time, “let’s just _go!_ A mall or Fifth Avenue or the Empire State Building or something. There has to be a something happening somewhere, there has to-"

The world was spinning; she hadn't realised she’d been heading for the door until she stumbled, clutching the frame as her legs gave up on her. Stupid legs. Stupid everything. Why weren’t they out there already? There was a whole wide world and she needed to be part of it, screw pants she could go in this, she just needed- needed to…..

“Darcy, you need to get back into bed now.”

“ _No.”_ Wood splintered beneath her fingers, cracking as she clutched tighter at the frame. That wasn’t what she needed at all, desperation surging up within her like the sea, the molten sea, “I need to be _out_ there, I…”

The frame shattered, raining around her in shards. For a second all she could see was the horror on Jane’s face before everything spun out on her again and the world turned black.

 

—-

 

Rumours travelled. Even here in the forgotten depths of the palace they could be heard, if you were careful enough to listen and smart enough to understand of course.

Loki was both of those things in spades.

Something had happened on Midgard, the prodigal son summoned from whatever war he was waging to attend to it. How strange to think that if he had succeed in gaining Midgard’s throne it would be him they’d turn to now, _his_ benevolent judgement they’d seek. One ever so slightly more informed than that hammer-waving oaf they’d called upon instead.

He would have been a good King to them.

But he wasn’t a King, as the guards so delighted in reminding him whenever they passed. Well, not _yet_ at least.

He paced the edges of his cell, a familiar frustration licking at his bones even as he schooled himself to be patient. He was trapped here for the interim, neither above in the palace or below in the dungeons. His own personal oubliette as he awaited Odin’s judgement. Hauled out now and then for another tiresome chat with the old fool.

As if Loki owed him answers, as if he owed him _anything_ after what Odin had done.

And to think, they called _him_ liesmith.

They had no idea.

 

—-

 

Thor, mighty God of Thunder, bonafide Avenger, and breaker of her friend-boss’s heart, was in her room. His huge, beefy frame crammed in the tiny white chair in the corner looking for all the world like a very large, very lost child.

He was back, which meant either the world was ending again or she was in more trouble than she’d thought. Selfishly she hoped it was the world.

Evidence suggested however it was her. She was still in a hospital room, big-ass restraints weighing her arms down. Her skin felt like a balloon stretched tight enough to burst, a sharp pain throbbing in her chest like someone had taken a meat cleaver to her.

She felt like shit.

Still, better to know the truth than die wondering. Time to get it over with.

“Hey, big guy.” She coughed awkwardly, throat dry as Thor’s head shot up. Big blue eyes lighting up as she tried her best to fake a scowl at him. “You don’t call, you don’t write. I should kick your ass.”

Ah humour, defence mechanism of the best and brightest.

“I am sure it would be justly deserved, Lady Darcy,” he rumbled in that fancy-pants accent of his, tipping his head with an abashed smile. “But perhaps it could wait until you are well enough to do it justice.”

“I’m gonna get better then?” She asked, unable to keep the waver from her voice. Suddenly she was the child, frightened of the unknown as she clutched at the white cotton sheets with aching fingers. The cold metal around her wrists threatening to crush her.

Thor paused and she winced.

“Not exactly the response I was hoping for there, not gonna lie.”

“No… I mean yes… I mean-” He sure was endearing when he stumbled over his words. She could see why Jane was still hung up on the guy; she hoped he’d patched it up with her. That whatever excuse he had for the intergalactic version of ghosting her was worth it. “You appear to be under the effects of something not of your world, something your healers are not equipped to deal with here. With your permission I would like to return to Asgard with you to seek proper care.”

“And here’s me bragging about going to Europe,” she joked weakly. The aching in her head was getting worse. Her bones turning into bees, buzzing, stinging bees that were determined to get out. She shifted uncomfortably in the bed, wondering why they’d bothered to chain her up when she could barely move in the first place. “Jane’s coming, right?”

“Of course, as your close confident and Midgard’s leading expert on our ways it is natural she should accompany you,” even through the splitting pain in her head Darcy didn’t miss the blush on his face. Awww, she was glad those crazy kids were getting back together. She’d be more glad if the room would stop spinning though.

“Sure,” she patted his big hand lightly where it rested next to her on the edge of the bed. “That’s the reason.”

Her spine decided that was the ideal moment to try and leap from her body, back bowing off the bed as she screamed at the sudden knife-twist of agony. Bees. Hornets. Boiling hot fucking hornets trying to eat her alive.

“Darcy-” The door banged open, Jane rushing in as Thor towered over her bed. Stars burst behind her eyes, a dull roar deafening her as her bones twisted and she clamped down on Thor’s hand in hers.

Then… then it was over. Gone as quickly as it had come, leaving her gasping in its wake.

“Sorry about that,” she panted weakly, missing the way Thor massaged his fingers as she flopped back on the bed. “So, uh... when can we leave?”

  



	3. The Netflix Conundrum

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for all your continued support and comments - they keep this ol’ girl writing! 💜 And of course to RogueSareth for Beta’ing this chapter, it is incredibly appreciated!

 

“Oh dear,” Loki sighed, not looking up from his book with a casual air he’d studied _decades_ to perfect, “don’t tell me Odin wants another chat does he?”

He flicked the page, counting down silently from three before deigning to look up. His mother stood at the foot of the cot, lips thinned with an exasperation he knew all too well.

One he was particularly gifted at inspiring.

“I didn’t think he’d bother me this week,” he added carefully, “what with all the… _excitement_ in the palace.”

Ah, there it was. The faintest flicker that told him his suspicions were true. Something _was_ going on. For days now he’d been aware of it, a certain new shiftiness in his guards. The quiet conversations they couldn’t quite keep from him, the worry.

Someone had come. Someone who wasn’t supposed to be here. He’d heard mutters of _mortals_ and thought instantly of Thor and his paper frail beloved but it seemed like more than that.

Power was gathering, and power was always useful.

“No son,” Frigga’s voice pulled him from his machinations, sighing like the wind through the trees, “I just came to…”

“To check on me?” He sneered, “oh what thoughtfulness, that you would waste your time on such a lowly prisoner like myself.”

“Your bitterness does you no justice,” she shook her head sadly, his acidic retort silenced before it started as she gestured to the bookshelf, “I simply came to ask if you still had Varina’s ‘Guidance and Control’. I can’t seem to find my copy.”

“I’m afraid not.” He lied on instinct, eyes going anywhere but at the dusty stack of books on the bottom shelf. Even _he_ hadn’t been bored enough to pick up that particular behemoth yet. It was hardly light reading after all.

“A shame,” Frigga sighed, golden hair swishing as she turned, “very well then, I can sense my company is not wanted. I shall leave you to your thoughts.”

He bit his tongue so hard he tasted copper, fighting the instinct to call her back before she vanished. It was a weakness, the hardest for him to crush. No matter what Odin and the oafish Thor had put him through Frigga had always been his true mother. If not in body than soul.

Cutting at that bond only made himself bleed.

He shoved the thoughts aside, he was a child no more. No motherly embrace could console him, or absolve him of his sins. No, he was beyond that now.

Rising to his feet he cast his novel aside.

Varina’s ‘ _Guidance and Control,’_ hmm? Whatever could she want with that lumbering old tome. Plucking it from the stack he laid it upon his desk and scanned the contents.

A hint maybe? A warning? He leafed through the heavy book, eyes darting across the ancient script in search of its import. Binding spells, power suppressors, ah. A warning then.

But… why? They had already bound his powers to the pitiful cell they’d left him in, wreathing him in heavy irons when they dragged him out. Ones enchanted over the eons to control him, to cut him off from his lifesblood. In comparison this was… _juvenile._ Careful, ornate things like one might give to a child who could not control their powers. Designed to suppress, not isolate the wearer completely.

So why did his mother search for it so?

And what, exactly, did it all have to do with the stranger in the palace...

 

—-

 

“How’re you feeling?” Jane was already waiting when Darcy woke up that afternoon, she always was. This time though Darcy could do more than just groan at her when she opened her eyes.

“Almost human.” Darcy stretched her arms over her head, neck popping satisfyingly as she wiggled upright in her bed. The guest room was lush, there were no two ways about it. This was no white-washed hospital room but a _palace,_ rich blue sheets, intricate tapestries, enough cushions to keep the Elephant Man alive for years, “How long have we been here? Everything’s kinda blurry.”

That was one word for it.

“Two weeks,” Jeez no wonder Jane looked so tired, she could carry groceries in the bags beneath her eyes. Not that Darcy probably looked any better. “Do you remember any of what happened?”

“Not really,” she shrugged, drawing her legs up underneath her and fiddling with the coverlet. “It’s all sort of a haze of glowy lights, unconsciousness and bone aching. Did I miss much?”

She had dim memories of impossibly beautiful people, and crying, and weird weird dreams. She was pretty sure she’d rather just keep the whole lot forgotten to be honest.

“Thor’s dad called us goats,” Jane huffed, “tried to have us evicted. If it wasn’t for his mom I don’t know what would have happened.”

“What a dick!” She gasped, eyes widening at the admission, “You’d think he’d be nicer to his future daughter in law. That is if you two kids are… yaknow… officially back on it?”

“I… yes,” Jane blushed, unable to suppress her smile as she ducked her chin, “Thor explained and apologised and he’s been so good when you were… yeah.”

Ah yes. When she was… _yeah._

“About that,” she fixed Jane with a shrewd gaze, realising belatedly that she wasn’t wearing her glasses and yet could still see perfectly. Asgardian lasik maybe? A question for another time, first… “I can’t help but notice everyone has been super careful not to actually tell me what’s going on and, not gonna lie, it’s starting to suck. Level with me Doc, what’s the prognosis?”

“Well… that is…” Jane avoided her gaze and Darcy let out another sigh. Fighting the urge to flop back into the pillows.

“Come on Jane, I mean I’m not dead yet right? That’s a good sign. Just tell me what happened… _please_.”

Maybe it was the please that did it but Jane finally met her gaze again, worrying at her lip for a split second before she blurted out, “you ate a magic apple and now you’re some kind of immortal.”

“I’m a…” Darcy blinked twice, swallowed once and shook her head, “nope, okay, rewind. _What?”_

“The apple, it was originally from here. Asgard I mean, one of their magic life-extending ones,” Jane flushed, hands twisting together nervously, “only it was altered somehow, _enchanted_ as they call it, although I’m sure it’s all scientifically explainable if you had the right-”

Darcy waved a hand at her, “off topic, Jane. Back to the magic-apple-immortal thing please.”

“Right, yes, of course, so,” she heaved in a deep breath, “you know how we’ve discovered that a lot of Norse mythology is loosely based on real Asgardian history?”

“Yup, got that,” she nodded, tense as a rock as she fought her natural inclination to pace. The last thing she wanted was to fall down again now, or faint, fainting was definitely an option.

“So it turns out that it’s not the only one with a basis in truth. There was this Greek goddess, Eris, who maybe wasn’t so mythical after all.”

“The golden apple,” Darcy’s throat went dry, a long forgotten memory swimming up in her head, “We learnt about that in history class, how it started the Trojan war. Eris or whatever her name was wasn’t invited to this party so she full on Malificent’d them. She wrote like ‘to the fairest’ or something on an apple and tossed it into a room full of super vain goddesses just to watch them fight.”

Jane nodded grimly, “That’s the story. Only it turns out that Eris at least was real, like Thor and the others, she was considered a criminal in the end. Wanted for her actions and her… uncontrollable powers.”

Jane’s eyes darted downwards, Darcy’s gaze following. She would have accused Jane of checking out her rack but this _so_ wasn’t the time. There was something on her chest, she trailed her fingers over the ridged lines that marked her from collarbone to collarbone, dipping down to her cleavage in an intricate pattern of celtic knots and whirls.

That certainly hadn’t been there before.

“The mark of Eris,” Jane confirmed, “Before she was caught she stored all her well… _magic_ in one of Asgard’s apples, so that the other Aesir couldn’t take it from her, and left it hidden on Earth, apparently waiting for the right finder.”

“ _Right_ finder?” Darcy squeaked, hands balling into fists as she dragged them away from the weird scarification she had most definitely _not_ signed up for _._ “Random you mean? Anyone could have eaten that thing! You all wanted it.”

Shaking her head Jane fiddled with the sleeves of her dress, soft pink and flowy, Darcy would have appreciated it’s beauty if she wasn’t too busy _freaking the fuck out._

“That’s the thing, to us it was just a… just a _thing_ to covet, to possess. I talked to the other’s who were affected by it and no one wanted to eat it. No one but…”

“But me.” Darcy finished for her, eyes bugging as she tried to take it all in, “the apparent successor to the Goddess of Chaos. Oh hell Jane. What do I do now?”

“You learn to adjust, child.”

Darcy and Jane shot up at the no-nonsense voice, the most elegant woman Darcy had ever seen in her life sweeping into the room in a gown of cornflower blue silk.

“Queen Frigga,” Jane dropped a super awkward curtsey as Darcy gaped, struggling to her feet in a daze.

You didn’t stay sitting for a Queen, no matter how likely you were to faint. Which was pretty fricking likely right now. Or how totally still-in-your-fancy-borrowed-pyjamas you were.

“Jane, please. I insist you call me Frigga, there is no need for such formalities.” The Queen smiled, warmth radiating from her like a small sun as she patted Jane on the shoulder. Thor’s mom. This was Thor’s mom.

No wonder he was such a babe.

“And you must be Darcy, please forgive my interruption but I came as soon as I heard you were ready to receive visitors.”

She shook the Queen, _the_ _actual Queen,_ of Asgard’s hand. Mouth flopping like a fish as she tried to think of something smart to say.

“Hi, uh, your grace, majesty, uh, Lady… Frigga… Thor’s mom.”

Yup that would do it. Great one Darce.

To her credit Frigga simply laughed, “it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my son has spoken highly of your wit and kindness. As has dear Jane, of course.”

Had he? Did she? Would it be like totally weird if she asked Frigga to adopt her here and now? No wait, focus. _Focus_. Magic apple. Goddess of Chaos. Her whole life blowing up in front of her.

“I understand this must all come as quite a shock to you,” Frigga added, gently pressing Darcy’s hand between her own, “But I hope you will come to love your time here on Asgard, as I have.”

“I… I’m staying here?” Darcy’s heart lodged itself in her throat as she looked between them, not sure how much more she could take, “I can’t stay here, there’s food in the fridge and I finally paid for my own Netflix account. And and… anyway, we have science to do don’t we Jane? Who will sort your equipment and keep you fed?”

Jane didn’t reply, looking to Frigga instead.

“It is only for a while child,” the Queen assured her, shooting her down with absolute grace, “you have abilities now, ones you’re unequipped to handle. We can help you, teach you how to use them without them overwhelming you.”

“But I don’t _feel_ any different,” she protested weakly, terrified sure, overwhelmed definitely, but _magic?_ No way. It wasn’t happening. “Are you sure this isn’t all a big mistake?”

“I am afraid not,” Frigga gently raised Darcy’s hand, the heavy cuffs were gone but in there place were delicate braces she had written off some sort of Asgardian fashion statement. The fine lines of gold twisted up her forearms in swirls, warming against her skin at Frigga’s touch, “I made these for you whilst you slept, the magic was too much for you at first but these… well, they will help suppress the majority of your powers whilst you become acclimatized to them. But they won’t hold forever. You must learn to control it before it becomes a danger to you.”

“Can’t you just take it away?” She asked pitifully even as her inner twelve year old screamed at her.

She had magic powers!

That was what she’d always wanted wasn’t it? All those long nights as a kid staring out the dingy window in the back of the trailer, her Walkman cranked up to the highest volume as she wished on long dead stars that she had the ability to fix things. To change them, rise above and leave it all behind.

That was then though and this was now. In reality it didn’t seem quite so enticing any more.

“No, my dear.” Frigga shook her head, “there can be no going back now. Only forward.”

 


	4. A Distraction of Questionable Welcome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to everyone reading and commenting - I didn’t realise there were so many of us still here in this strange little ship! It’s amazing!
> 
> And of course a massive thank you to RogueSareth and SpoonlessLupie for beta’ing this chapter! 💜

Darcy needed to think.

Or not think.

Either way she needed to move whilst she did it and pacing her room, no matter how palatial, wasn’t cutting it any more. Snatching up one of the shawls from her seemingly endless Asgardian wardrobe, she headed for the door. A handmaiden had left it for her.

A _handmaiden_.

 _Her_ handmaiden.

She would have loved it if it had been under any other circumstance, the beautiful (thankfully high necked) dresses, the palace, the food, the fairytale weirdness of being on another planet. All courtly intrigue and endless sunshine.

As it was she couldn’t find the energy to do anything but mope and freak out in turns.

She missed sweaters. And beanies. And sneakers. Hell she even missed her _glasses_ ; she hadn’t needed to wear them since whatever happened happened and it was just _weird._ She found herself constantly reaching to adjust them or clean them or whatever, only to find there was nothing there. They were back on earth and she wasn’t.

Biting her tongue, she hurried away from her door. It had been three days since she’d gotten out of bed. Three days of hiding in her room and trying to pretend it wasn’t happening. Frigga wanted her to start _lessons_ soon; Jane wanted her to start coming to the awkward evening meals with her; and Thor… well Thor just wanted her to feel better, which was nice.

Darcy wanted to go home.

Her footsteps echoed off the marble, elegantly twisting columns and arched windows marking her progress as she wandered through the palace. She should ask one of the guards where Jane was, or Thor, but she didn’t. She didn’t say a word as her long navy dress swished around her ankles.

It was a good thing it was so long, she couldn’t remember the last time she shaved her legs.

Wait, did she need to _do_ that anymore? The Asgardians were always so perfectly and effortlessly plucked and quaffed. Was it a spell? A potion? Some weird genetic thing?

She didn’t know. She felt the same as she always did. A little stronger, maybe, faster too, and she didn’t get out of breath on the stairs anymore. But she was still just _Darcy._ She still tripped over her own feet and said shit without thinking.

She didn’t _feel_ … immortal.

Jeez, that was a scary word. Well, _almost_ -immortal, which was still pretty damn scary. She’d already outlived her parents, now she’d repeat the process with everyone else. All her friends. Not that she had that many friends, but there was Eric, and Jane.

 _Jane_. This should have happened to Jane. She’d know how to deal with it, all serene and scientific-like as she adjusted to her new reality. Then she and Thor could be together forever like they were supposed to be. A perfect romance, a happy ending.

It should never have been _her._

No. No, she couldn’t think about it. It made her sweat, a phantom itch buzzing beneath her skin that she tried very hard to ignore. It writhed at the back of her mind, a static sort of energy working its way down her arms to pool in her fingertips. Like it was begging for release.

She needed to think about something else, _anything_ else. She took another turn blindly, following the shadows deeper into the castle without considering how she’d find her way back. She was stuck at a junction deciding her next turn when a breeze from the open window opposite caught the tapestry in front of her. The ornate cloth fluttered, twisting just enough to reveal a dark passage behind.

_Hello._

Checking the hallway around her was empty, she sidled towards the tapestry, pulling it back so she could peer into the secret corridor beyond. Cold air rushed to greet her, beckoning her to find its source.

_Welp, why not?_

If a secret passageway in a magic castle on another planet couldn’t distract her from her stupid thoughts, nothing could.

She’d taken two secret corridors and four winding staircases down into the darkness before she realised her mistake, absently following a strange glow of light into the distance as her mind danced around and around like a drunken elephant.

“And who, exactly, are you?”

The words caught her off guard. She stumbled on the slick flagstones, turning blindly toward their source. She’d been so caught up in her own head she hadn’t noticed the stranger waiting in the wings.

“Who wants to know?”

Nice. Solid response. Her voice didn’t even waver much either, ten points to Darcy Lewis.

The stranger’s eyebrows rose. He was tall, super tall, and lean. Dressed in dull greens and blacks, his ebony hair curling just so below his ears. He seemed to be in a bedroom of some kind that opened onto the hallway, a strange golden shimmer in the air the only thing separating it from where she stood.

Like a cell maybe?

A warning bell jingled in her brain, her sensible side telling her turn around and leave now. Whoever he was, she obviously wasn’t meant to be there talking to him, and really, didn’t she have enough trouble to deal with already?

She didn’t move; curiosity had always been her downfall. And besides… she’d asked for a distraction, hadn’t she?

“Surely you jest?” He scoffed, because of course he did. No one that handsome could be anything but a jerk, it would’ve been unnatural. “There are few in all the realms who do not know me.”

What was he, an Asgardian Kardashian?

“Doth it sound like I _jest_ to you?” she scowled defensively, mocking his fancy pants accent on instinct. “Jeez, _egomaniac_ much.”

He started, face a picture of affront, like a cat that had been dunked in a bathtub. The expression passed quickly, smoothing back into impassivity. But well, now that he mentioned it he did look kinda familiar. Something about those sharp cheekbones and the endless glower...

But no, it was impossible. None of the Asgardians she’d met so far had looked anything like him; they had been a parade of square-jawed, sun-tanned vikings. And it wasn’t like the Aesir had bothered to visit Earth in the last thousand years. Well, except for Thor of course, and Thor’s mad brother.

“ _Shit.”_

She took a step back, throat working as the mild familiarity connected at last. Thor’s mad brother. Oh God, she knew where she recognised him from. Whack a pointy helmet on him and give him a glowing blue stick and...

Loki. This was _Loki._

“Ah, there we go. My reputation precedes me after all.” He gave a half bow, eyes hard as stone.

“Mass murder has a tendency to do that,” she mumbled through a dry mouth, heart beating hard enough to hurt as she looked evil in the face. The man who’d tried to enslave her world, kill her friends. He looked different from the news footage she’d seen. Somehow taller and smaller all at once.

She _really_ shouldn’t have come down here.

 

—-

 

A mortal then, Midgardian even. One of his would-be-subjects.

Thor’s little pet, perhaps.

He hadn’t known his brother to have such good taste.

He scanned her carefully, _deliberately._

“What is that charming _Midgardian_ saying?” He asked, noting each flicker and twist in her expression, “about omelettes and eggs?”

She flinched.

“Bastard,” the epitaph was hardly unexpected, a definite confirmation that she was Midgardian at least if nothing else. “You absolute _bastard.”_

He shrugged. “I am sure my dearest _brother_ has already made that painfully clear to you.”

Puzzlement. Well that was unexpected, the split-second frown before the righteous anger returned. The fear.

“We didn’t need Thor to tell us dude, you weren’t exactly _subtle_.”

“Yes, well,” he shrugged airily, “the extreme always seems to make an impression. Besides, one can hardly conquer a planet without actually… conquering it.”

“I don’t even have time to tell you how wrong you are,” she scowled, the crease between her eyes furrowing deep enough to scar. “You just get your rocks off hurting people.”

His jaw twitched. “Don’t presume to know me, mortal.”

“Yeah, well, I know enough to know that a bottleneck invasion is a freaking stupid plan for world domination. I thought you guys were supposed to be smarter than us, you live, like, forever right?” Her face had pinkened, words coming out in an angry rush. He stepped back, eyebrows rising sharply as she ranted. “Brute force might work for a small country, but an entire planet? Give me a break.”

“And you know so much about world conquering, do you? You are but a _child.”_

“I’m a poli-sci major, asshole,” she spat, the words incomprehensible even in Allspeak, but the tone universally translatable. “And you’re nothing but a _murderer_.”

The girl shuddered, hands sinking beneath her shawl to rub at forearms clad in delicate gold vambraces. He tilted his head, eyes widening just a fraction as he recognised the design.

Varina’s ‘ _Guidance and Control.’_

“Who are you?” He demanded, voice sharper than he intended as he lurched towards the barrier. She couldn’t be the source of the trouble; she was Midgardian, she was…

He caught her gaze, her eyes wide and blue as she froze on the other side of the hallway. For a moment he thought she might answer, plump lips parted on a silent word. Then her expression went cold, shoulders stiffening as she turned away from him.

“I hope you rot down here.”

She was gone, footsteps echoing in the sudden silence as he bit down on a growl, frustration burning in his chest. Powerless to go after her, to do _anything._

This wouldn’t do.

Turning from the barrier he took to pacing, one way or another he would get his answers.

 

—-

 

“Darcy!” Jane caught up to her as she was heading for her room, heart still pounding with a heady mix of rage and fear. She’d just told a mass murdering alien to shove it, _holy shit._ “I’ve been looking for you, are you okay?”

The sensation pulsed inside her, as if she could feel each individual vein in her body burning with it. She wanted to scream, to hurl the feeling out of her in waves. To release the rage in violence and chaos. The vases lining the hallway began to shake, the porcelain rattling in a way that clawed at her spine, getting faster and faster and…

No. She forced herself to stop, sucking in a deep breath as she turned to Jane.

“I-” _just met your boyfriends brother. He’s insane. You knew that but damn it seems to be contagious because now I just want to break things._ “I am fine.”

She faked a smile, flexing her hands at her side as she willed the strangeness to stop, the bracelets on her forearms seeming to heat against her skin. A comforting warmth as the feeling slowly ebbed and the vases settled back in their places.

Nothing broken.

_This time._

“But I think, maybe, I should talk to Thor’s mom again.”

“That’s great Darce,” Jane smiled. She looked far more rested today, all glowy and beautiful. Asgard suited her, “you can ask her at dinner tonight.”

Her mouth dried. “At din-”

Jane swept her away, arm threaded tight through hers, “I’m so glad you’re well enough to join us. It’ll be so much nicer with some company, I mean Thor tries his best but nothing beats girlfriend solidarity. Right?”

Oh that sneaky witch. Grumbling quietly to herself, Darcy let herself be towed along. Jane had stuck by her through all the insanity, when anyone in their right mind would have probably abandoned her to her fate. Especially when they had a smoking-hot boyfriend like Thor to catch up with.

But not Jane, instead she’d spent every moment she could, every moment Darcy would allow, at her side.

Darcy owed her.

And if that meant going to one awkward royal space family dinner? So be it.

“Right, Jane.”

 Besides, how bad could it be?


	5. Feasts, Flora, and Folly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone still reading and commenting! You are making it impossible for me to quit these two (but who’d want to right?) and have me writing at every chance I get! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it!
> 
> And of course my most massiveist thanks to RogueSareth and SpoonlessLupie for being amazing beta’s 💜

 

 

In hindsight she’d jinxed herself from the get-go.

How bad could it be huh?

How bad could a weird, alien, royal, family dinner be in a place where half the population saw her as a ticking time bomb and the other half as a farm animal who could talk.

Pretty fricking bad.

It turned out ‘Family dinner’ for Asgardian royalty meant an actual banquet in an actual banquet hall complete with lackeys, servants and serfs. There was drinking, feasting, and enough glaring from mighty King Odin to destroy whatever appetite she had left after her unexpected meeting with the Other Odinson.

How did he pack so much _glare_ into just the one eye anyway? How many millennia of practice did that take? He’d spoken to her exactly once, his thunderclap voice coming out of nowhere and making her spit wine everywhere when he addressed her. Real classy.

The other Asgardians were nice enough though, the younger ones at least. None of Thor’s buddies from New Mexico had shown up, but the beefy Viking who sat next to her was more than willing to keep the conversation going after her social faux pas. Randolph, that was his name, cute in a big, dumb, ‘talks too much about himself’ kind of way. He’d have been even cuter if it wasn’t for the aforementioned constant one-eyed death glare coming from Papa Odin. Or the fact that Randolph’s own eyes kept straying to her chest. At first she thought it was because of obvious reason - her breasts _were_ magnificent, but then it hit her.

He was looking for the mark.

“Are you ready to try again Darcy?” Frigga pulled her from her thoughts and back into the moment.

The feast was then, this was now. She was sitting in a sun-warmed garden with the the good Queen of Asgard. Frigga was the polar opposite of her husband, how that marriage had happened she’d never know.

Shaking herself mentally, Darcy nodded.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she confirmed, squeezing her eyes shut as dragged herself back into the moment. Into the _magic_.

They’d been sitting there for hours, well, at least it _felt_ like hours to her. The one redeeming feature of it all was the blissful emptiness of the place. Here there was no one to witness her embarrassment like there had been at the feast.

No one apart from the fricking _Queen of Asgard_ of course.

“Stop thinking so much,” Frigga soothed, “and trust your instincts. You have to let your disbelief go.”

It was easier said than done. Darcy had lived 23 years under the absolute certainty that she did not have magic powers, it was hard to believe that had changed now. Even if she did have a weird tingly feeling at the edge of her consciousness she couldn’t seem to shake these days; a rolling static sea that sat just above her skin and begged her to use it.

“Okay, now draw you seidr down into your fingers,” Frigga’s voice soothed over her. _Seidr_ , that’s what they called it.

Cos magic was for kids’ parties, obvs.

Darcy did as she was told, pushing aside her disbelief along with the distracting little voice that was convinced Frigga could make a fortune narrating audio books.

 _Not now brain_ , she exhaled in a rush, _not now._

“That’s right, Darcy.” She could hear the smile in Frigga’s voice. Her hands tingled, warmth playing over her skin like pins and needles as threads of gold danced behind her eyes, “Picture the flower in your mind. Shape it, its petals, its leaves.”

A pink flower. Like the kind decorating the bushes around them, the ones with the purple veins and the lush curling leaves. Thor had brought Jane a bouquet of them; she’d seen them on her friend’s night stand. Beautiful, delicate things.

“I can see it,” Darcy whispered, barely daring to breathe lest she upset the moment as the tingling in her hands grew into a buzz. That hadn’t happened before. It was terrifying and elating and a dozen other things she couldn’t think about right now.

“That’s right, now… open your eyes and let it flourish.”

Swallowing around a tight throat, she did, blinking in the sunshine as the feeling in her hands grew, shuddering and electric. It burst out of her in a wild rush of gold, a tumble of flowers blossoming between her palms like they had been there all along.

“Oh my god,” she muttered quietly to herself before squealing. “ _Oh my god!_ I did it! I DID IT! Take that, Harry Potter! Boom!”

She turned with a grin to her tutor, dancing in her seat as she thrust her hands up for Frigga to see the waxy leaves spilling over her fingers in wild abandon. “I did it!”

“Wonderful!” Frigga laughed, clapping her hands together. “A helioblossom - my son chose the very same flower when he first managed the spell. He brought me them every day for weeks afterwards.”

“I didn’t know Thor knew magic,” Darcy beamed, utterly distracted by the living thing she’d just pulled out of the universe with her brain. The golden sunshine burnished its leaves ever so prettily.

“I tried, but magic was never Thor’s interest.” There was a sad note in Frigga’s voice, warm and wistful. “He was always his father’s child. No, my other son.”

Oh.

_OH._

Shit, _that_ son. She felt her mouth drop open, helpless to shut it as she remembered the psycho in the basement. The one who’d tried to destroy her world.

It was hard to imagine he’d ever been a child.

“He was not always as he is now, my dear.” Frigga’s hand was warm where it covered her shoulder, patting her gently as Darcy cursed her own lack of subtlety. “I know he has done terrible things,” the Queen’s gaze grew distant. “The years have brought his darker shades to light, something we have only worsened, I fear. But I believe there are things we don’t understand yet, things we cannot see.”

“What do you mean?” She couldn’t keep from asking, almost crushing her flowers as her hands clenched. An automatic jerk of anger that anyone or anything should try to justify his sins; that anyone raised by this woman could turn out so badly.

Frigga only shook her head sadly, plucking the blooms from Darcy’s hands and setting them aside; “a question for another time, I think.” A handmaiden chose that moment to interrupt, beckoning the Queen away. “Keep practicing my dear, it will get easier.”

Darcy nodded silently, knowing she should thank her tutor but unable to find the words. Alone in the garden she closed her eyes and tried to concentrate again, the magic, seidr, _whatever_ swirling uncomfortably over her skin. Her bracelets felt too tight, skin sweating as she tried to corral it like she had before. It felt different, wild and angry as she pushed it into her empty hands.

Picture the flower. Picture the flower. Picture the-

“ _Fuck_ ,” Darcy’s eyes shot open, hissing out a breath as something sharp bit into her skin.

The flowers grew in wild tangles, petals blackened and stems sharp. They had grown thorns.

The whole garden had.

 

—-

 

The magic lessons followed Darcy into her sleep.

Unfortunately, so did Loki.

She knew she was dreaming because she had on her comfy jeans instead of another impractically flowy gown, her glasses a reassuring weight on the bridge of her nose.

And because of the man sitting on the cot opposite her.

“Of course it’s you again,” she snorted as she scanned the stone hallway she sat in and the open room facing her. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

At least he was locked up in this dream, not popping up from the surroundings when she least expected it. Last time, it had been prom; she was wearing that tacky satin gown she’d bought at Goodwill, creasing the skirt between her sweating fingers as Doug Jennings leaned into her. He was going to kiss her, right there in the hallway outside the gym with the music pounding in the background and the burning sweetness of illicit schnapps sticking on her tongue.

She held herself still, heart racing a mile a minute as he got closer and closer, her whole body freaking out with the terrifying excitement of it all. Then she blinked and his face had changed, pale and lean and impossibly beautiful. Impossibly cruel. Her chest tightened, unable to pull away as he swept down towards her. He was still going to kiss her. She was going to _let_ him.

Then the glow of his sceptre lit his eyes bright blue and he was running her through with the blade. Carving into her like butter.  

Her subconscious had been kinder to her this time at least. No murder and mutilation yet.

“You are the one who has come to me, mortal.” Loki shifted on the bed, raising a dark eyebrow at her appearance. He set his book aside with a studied nonchalance she knew better than to take at face value. “Why have you returned here?”

“God only knows,” she sighed, crossing her legs. “At least you aren’t stabbing me this time, though. Or burning me alive. Yay for my brain, it’s evolving.”

“What do you mean?” He asked too quickly, making her roll her eyes. Her image of him had gotten jumpy all of the sudden.

“Don’t play innocent,” she sighed. “You’re a figment of _my_ imagination after all, and I am so not giving you the chance to run me through with that glowy stick again. Nuh uh, if I’m stuck here for this dream you best believe it will be on _my_ terms this time. I just wish I had my taser.”

Wasn’t that always the way? Stuck on Asgard, stuck in her dreams, no taser, no iPod, nothing. Rising to her feet she stretched her arms. How they could cramp in her sleep she didn’t know, but there they were.

“You believe yourself to be dreaming?” He asked carefully. Something she couldn’t quite read flickering across his stupid pointy features.

“Duh, we’re just missing the prom decorations and glitter this time.”

She wandered closer to the golden barrier separating them. Running her hand along it only to find there was no resistance.

Of course there wasn’t; it was her dream after all. She could go wherever she wanted. Not that she wanted to go in there, oh hell no.

“Maybe I’m still trying to figure out why you did it,” she said, more to herself than to him as she danced her fingers across the harmless honeycomb static of his containment. “Y’know, come to terms with it subconsciously or whatever.”

“You already know the answers.” He paced towards her on the other side of the barrier. Coming so close she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes; “I was born to rule, you were born to be ruled. It’s as simple as that.”

“I wasn’t born to be ruled,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “I wasn’t born for anything. Anyway, you know that’s not what I mean.”

He pressed closer and she felt herself swallowing automatically. He looked at her like he could see right through her skin, her tongue darting out to wet suddenly dry lips as she met his gaze.

“What _do_ you mean?” He asked quietly and she found she couldn’t look away.

“Queen Frigga,” she whispered, hands fisting against her ribs as she crossed her arms, “Thor even. There’s a space for you, you know, I didn’t notice it at first but now I can’t unsee it. A place setting at their fancy table that no one ever sits at, all these empty spaces and forgotten spells… it’s like they’re, I dunno, _mourning_ you, but you’re right here.”

Darcy trailed off, the ache in her chest throbbing painfully as she remembered it all. As she tried to work out _why._

“Do you dream of me often?” Loki countered, his split second flinch at her words covered like sand shifting on the beach. Leaving her strangely grateful for the shift in conversation, thinking about his endlessly forgiving family only brought up bad memories of her own.

That was so not a nightmare she needed right then.

“Oh, please,” she shook her head, huffing out a breath as she focused her attention on him again, “like you don’t know you know you’re haunting me.”

 

—-

 

_You’re haunting me._

He wasn’t sure why but the words caught him, as insubstantial as smoke but just as choking.

“I am, am I?”

He recognised her now, this Midgardian girl with the faded denim trousers and spectacles. She had been present when he’d sent the Destroyer.

She had obviously survived.

“Yup,” she tilted her head, chestnut hair cascading to the side and revealing the ivory of her throat. “I just wish I knew _why,_ y’know? What exactly are you supposed to represent? Daddy issues? A latent thirst for world domination? Fear of sudden alien death? Ugh, who knows.”

Well that was an unnecessary assessment, if not _entirely_ unwarranted. The woman looked up at him keenly, fearlessly, as if he was a puzzle she could eventually solve.

It was an expression he hadn’t seen aimed at him for an age.

And an opportunity…

“Perhaps it’s because you never told me who you are,” he offered, feeling the static of the energy field sparking against his palms as he pressed closer still, keeping his gaze steady. Serious. “So I must chase you for answers, for… _resolution_.”

“Huh, that actually kind of makes sense,” she mused, gnawing at her lip as she thought it over. “You could be, like, my unresolved identity crisis or whatever. Just in the form of a tall, homicidal, god-dude. Maybe… maybe _I_ need to face up to some shit, even if it is all in my head. Stand up to it, well you, me… Jeez, I might even get a decent night's sleep for once.”

“Indeed.” He fought the urge to roll his eyes, to _grin,_ frustration simmering beneath his skin as he waited for her to finish talking. He had never felt so aware of his cage as he was now, less than inch of space between him and answers. It may as well have been a mile.

“Fine, I guess it’s worth a shot. Anything to get this over with,” nodding her head once she straightened her spine, a valiant show of bravery as she faced him full on and uncrossed her arms. “I am Darcy Lewis of Midgard, Student of Political Science, Intern to Jane Foster, Taser of Gods, and,” he heard the hitch in her breathing, saw her wince as she squeezed her eyes shut and touched the space between her collar bones as if it hurt, “Eater of the Apple of Discord, Heir to the Power of Eris.”

Loki swallowed, _hard_ , fighting to keep the shock from his features as she opened her eyes again. They were innocent blue and wide in her face as she looked up expectantly at him.

“Well?” she asked, “did it work?”

He didn’t have a chance to reply before she vanished, fading into the empty air and dust motes as if she’d never been there at all. Just the echo of her voice left as she whispered, “ _guess so.”_

Darcy Lewis of Midgard.

A human. A child in comparison to his kind, had just revealed herself as potentially the most powerful, and dangerous, woman on Asgard.

Whether she could be used as friend or foe, however, remained to be seen.


	6. Pear Today

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Thanks to everyone still reading and leaving such lovely comments - I really can’t tell you how much they mean to me!
> 
> As always I have to give mega thanks to the amazing RogueSareth and SpoonlessLupie for beta’ing this beastie for me! 💜

 

 

“Okay, show me again, slower this time.”

“Jane,” Darcy whined, fingers itching as she flexed them in front of her. “I can’t give a TED talk on it. It’s magic! It just… ya know… _happens_.”

“It’s science, Darce,” Jane corrected her primly. “ _Everything_ is. Now, come on, show me again.”

“Fine.” Huffing, Darcy straightened up, breathing deeply as she reached into the alien weirdness of her magic. It was like an after image behind her eyes after staring at the sun for too long, only not like that at all. Warm and cold and buzzing like pins and needles across her skin as she shook herself.

 _I am Darcy Lewis_ , she reminded herself, a mantra she’d been repeating since that one intense Loki dream she didn’t want to acknowledge. It had just been so odd, so _real_. Nightmare-death-Loki was one thing. But having a civil conversation with him in her sleep?

She couldn’t stop thinking about it. And feeling kinda guilty for some reason too, like she should tell someone. Well, _Jane._ She didn’t though. It was her subconscious, right? Her weird dream. No one else had to know.

And, for better or worse, the mantra helped a little at least.

_I am still Darcy Lewis._

See the pen. _Breathe._  Want the pen. _Focus._  Take the pen.

_Woosh._

A flourish of her hand was all it took, flicking her wrist as she snatched the pen through space itself. Jane’s hand suddenly coming up empty as Darcy grinned tiredly.

“You were supposed to move the pear,” Jane huffed, eyebrows furrowing as she held up her useless clipboard. Where she’d even gotten it on Asgard was anyone’s guess.

“What can I say?” Darcy shrugged, twirling the pen between her fingers. “I’ve kind of gone off space fruit.”

If she ever saw another apple again it would be too soon. There was a reason they always ended up being trouble in literature.

“Darcy, please,” Jane sighed, crossing the room to take the pen back before returning to her original spot to observe. “I’ve already established we need proper experiment parameters. Now come on, do it again.”

Darcy’s smile faded, shoulders sagging at the clinical reminder. And there was that word.

_Again._

Darcy’s temples throbbed, her jaw tightening at the demand. They’d been doing it for hours, Jane pushing Darcy to try and demonstrate, _explain,_ something she didn’t even understand herself. Endless repetitions. She tried not to complain, after everything Jane had done for her when she was ill it was the least she could do. It was just…

Darcy was tired. _So_ tired.

And frustrated too; the stupid apple power was still sitting on her, crushing in from outside her skin with every failed spell. The cold scientific trudge made her teeth clench, the perma-wear metal bracelets stuck on her arms seemed to grow heavier and heavier until she was sure she’d end up bruised beneath them.

“But-” she tried, mouth opening to ask for a break at last. That they do something else, _anything_ else, before her head exploded.

“Again, Darcy.” Jane cut her off, like it was all she _could_ say _._ Blinded by science, like Darcy was nothing more than another one of her experiments, some freakish human puzzle to be studied.

_Fixed._

“Dar-”

_“Fine.”_

Darcy’s hand cracked through the air, the static that had built on her skin bursting like a storm. The pear exploded, pulp splattering the room as the sturdy wooden table beneath is shattered like glass.

Darcy was pretty sure Jane’s screech of fear would haunt her forever.

“Shit,” she muttered in the ringing silence, guilt squeezing her stomach. “Shit, Jane I’m so sorry are you okay?”

Oh God, she was crying. Darcy had fucked up, she had fucked - wait, _wait_ , was Jane _laughing?_

“What the hell!” Darcy squeaked, head a jumbled mess of confusion and shame.

“Sorry, Darce,” Jane wheezed, wiping pear juice from her eyes, “Sorry it was just - and - boom! The thaumatological build up - wow!”

“Oh my god, I’ve given her brain damage,” Darcy muttered to herself, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “A world renowned scientist and I’ve ruined her.”

“No, no, I’m fine.” Shaking herself off, Jane wrapped her arms around Darcy in a soggy hug. “I’m sorry I was pushing you too hard, I just get so…”

“‘ _Yay science_ ’?” Darcy supplied, awkwardly hugging her back. All of her rage had vanished the instant the pear had, leaving nothing but guilt in its wake at her outburst.

“Yeah, exactly. I’ve just been trying to distract myself, things have been so weird lately and now there’s this thing with Thor…”

“Thing with Thor?” Her gaze shot up. Nothing snapped through self-reproach faster than relationship drama, she smiled sheepishly. “Do you need me to explode fruit at him? Too soon?”

Jane laughed again and Darcy felt a teeny bit better. She obviously hadn’t fucked up quite as badly as she thought, as she _really_ could have. Best to forget about it, focus on the now.

“No, well maybe, but no…” Jane pulled her over to one of the multitude of elegant futons in the room and sat down. “He has to leave again; all those conflicts after the Bifrost was destroyed… it’s been chaos and there’s this treaty that’s on rocky ground. I mean it’s totally understandable, I don’t judge him at all for going, it’s just…”

“You haven’t seen him in for forever and, despite having a _totally_ valid reason, he’s still abandoning you on a weird planet with his insane father?”

“Yup, something like that.” Jane admitted with a soft laugh, pulling at the sleeves of her dress.

“So go with him!”

“What?” Jane blinked, adorably uncertain. “Is that - do you think I could do that?”

“Of course,” Darcy grinned. “I mean you can do your science stuff there right? Explore the effects of different realms on the… whatever it is your sciencing. As long as Thor keeps you safe I don’t see why you should be stuck here. Besides, _anywhere_ has got to be more romantic than here with the eyepatch of Sauron always on you.”

“What about you?” Jane asked, suddenly solemn as she looked up at her. “It probably won’t be for long, just a few weeks, but I don’t want to abandon you.”

“Hey, you stuck by my bedside for long enough,” she said. More than long enough really, Jane had been amazing. Darcy was so used to taking care of the scatter-brained scientist that it had been down right strange to have it the other way round. And… _nice_.

It was nice to have someone take care of her for a change.

But enough was enough.

“Go on girlfriend,” she nodded, patting Jane on the shoulder. “Go explore space with your lover man.”

“Really? You’re okay with it?”

“I’ll be fine,” Darcy waved her hand airily. “I have enough to keep me busy not… destroying the castle and everything. Besides this is like the most well-protected place on the planet, what could possibly happen?”

In retrospect, that really was the wrong question to ask. Darcy never learned.  


—-

 

There was no chance the book had been left there by accident.

His mother had sent a new shipment of tomes to keep him busy; a varied stack of novels and spell books and histories. The very last of which was distinctly familiar. He flicked it open automatically, skipping past chapters on long dead heroes and villains until he found what he was looking for.

_Eris Nyxdottir_

How many times had he read this story as a child? Even then he’d felt a strange sort of kinship to the self-proclaimed goddess of chaos. Shunned and feared by her peers for her abilities as much as the rumour that she was the bastard child of a Titan and an Asgardian.

Perhaps there was a part of him even then that knew he was not all he’d been made to believe, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself.

Monsters hiding in plain site.

And the apple, he’d read about that too. Eris was one of the few who had ever managed to steal from the gardens of Idunn. A feat he’d echoed himself many years later. After her death it was rumoured she had stored the weight of her powers in it and hidden it somewhere, waiting to be found. Waiting for someone _worthy._

He had spent a good portion of his youth chasing rumours of it on Asgard and the other realms, wanting to claim it for his own. Who was there more worthy than he, after all?

The God of Mischief himself.

Now discord had a new home, a new vessel, one that had been deemed _worthy_ by the infamously chaotic sorceress herself.

And for the life of him Loki couldn’t figure out _why._

A mortal of all things? A mayfly to his kind, born and dying within a heartbeat. No experience. No knowledge. They were fragile little creatures who blinked out of existence before they even had a chance to leave a mark on the universe.

Why her? _Why_ Darcy Lewis?

“Oh God, I thought we’d sorted this.”

He snapped the book shut, heart leaping between his ribs as he whirled around to face the intruder.

Darcy Lewis.

Again.

It was as if he’d summoned her, no barrier separating them as she leant against the far wall of his cell. Pinching the bridge of her nose behind spectacles she had no reason to wear any more.

“I said the words didn’t I? Faced my demons both metaphorically and _literally,_ ” that was accompanied by a casual wave in his direction. “What more could my brain possibly want from me?”

“It is, of course, a pleasure to see you again too, Lady Darcy,” he replied drily, the wheels clicking in his skull as he raced to console his new information with what he was seeing in front of him. To twist this situation to his best advantage.

“Sure it is,” she muttered, stomping past him in her flat brown boots and dropping unceremoniously onto his cot.

He followed on instinct, eyebrows shooting up at her casual dismissal of him.

“What exactly are you doing?”

She cracked one eye open, peering up at him shrewdly, “If going to sleep caused this, maybe going _back_ to sleep will wake me up from it. Logic.”

She thought it was another dream. _Good._ He could use that, her barriers would be lower. Her inhibitions repressed.

“I don’t think that’s how this works.”

“Not if you keep talking at me it doesn’t,” she snorted inelegantly. Both eyes open now as she stared up at him. “I always thought your eyes were blue y’know. In all the footage I saw I swear they were blue, weird.”

He stiffened. She was far too perceptive beneath her air of dazed nonchalance. More perceptive perhaps than his own so-called family, the _brother_ who’d known him for a millennia.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” she sighed, hauling herself upright at last. “I’m still here.”

“It seems you are.” He said for the lack of anything else, momentarily taken back by the bizarre image of her so supremely comfortable on his bed.

“Perhaps saying the words wasn’t enough,” she mused, fingers toying with the ends of her hair absently. “Stupid brain. Stupid magic. I honestly don’t know what it wants from me, what anyone wants from me. It’s like being a teenager all over again, only worse.”

“What do _you_ want?” He took an automatic step back as she rose to her feet, still far nearer than he should have been. She was a contradiction. Mortal and immortal. Talkative yet guarded, casual yet sharp.

Fragile and yet more powerful than she knew.

“I…” she hesitated, full lips pursed around an answer she couldn’t seem to give as she looked up at him from closer than anyone had dared come in a long time. “Y’know what? I have no idea. I think I just want to feel normal again.”

“Whyever would you want a thing like that?” He tilted his head, brow furrowing at the answer he hadn’t expected. Everyone wanted something, everyone wanted _more_. “When you could be extraordinary?”

She blinked, thick lashes batting against her cheeks as if she was really considering her answer.

“What good is being extraordinary,” she said eventually, shaking her head ever so slightly, “when I can’t even control myself, or these powers or hell- my own _dreams?”_

Her words were quiet but tight with feeling. He could practically feel it, the anger and self-reproach and _desperation_ rolling off her. The immortal-mortal girl gazing up at him with a singular intensity, like she was _really_ looking to him for an answer. Guileless and hopeful.

He didn’t have the chance to answer; she had faded before he’d formulated the words.   
  



	7. Asgardian Whispers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My forever thanks as always to RogueSareth and SpoonlessLupie for their Beta’ing skills! And of course to you wonderful readers for your lovely comments - they truly do keep me writing!

 

“You’ve returned, have you?”

Loki hadn’t been brooding, what a ridiculous thought. No, he had merely spent the intervening few days working on his silent plans, figuring out how best to use Darcy Lewis to his own advantage and free himself from his current situation. Something that would prove far easier if he knew her better.

His pleasure at her arrival was nothing more than that.

He had certainly _not_ been musing on the uncommon brightness of her eyes when she’d looked up at him. He had lived long enough to recognize beauty after all, in all kinds, but whilst it was true that she was uncommonly comely, the fact had no real relevance to his schemes. It was a passing coincidence, that was all.

But now she was back and he was ready, a smile twitching his lips as he replaced his book carefully upon the shelf. If she needed answers that’s what he would give her. Becoming a counsellor, a mentor, a _friend_ even. He had played many roles; this would be no different.

Turning at last he felt his smile die, wiped clean away as he realized his guest was not at all who he had been expecting. And not half so attractive.

He should have known better. Surely no human woman could walk with such a lumberous gait.

“Brother.” Thor stood before his cell, hands clenched uncomfortably at his sides.

“I am not your brother.” Loki snapped, knowing as he said it that he shouldn’t let himself be baited so easily. It was because he had been caught off guard, that was all. Pulling back the reigns of his control he arched an eyebrow at Thor. “So, to what do I owe this dubious pleasure? Come to make sure I haven’t escaped, _Odinson_?”

Thor winced, a worthy act of concern creasing his brow as he ambled towards the force field. It was all Loki could do not to snarl at him.

“Br- _Loki_ , you know it pains me to see you like this,” because of course, it was all about Thor _,_ how _he_ felt. As if he knew pain. “I only wished to say my farewells, I leave for Vanaheim in the morning.”

“Will you be taking Jane Foster with you?” He asked, supremely casual even as shock crossed Thor’s face, wariness rising in his eyes like the tide.

“That is none of your concern.”

Ah, that was more like it, the response coming too quickly, too sharply. Even from his cage Loki still had the upper hand, it seemed. And now that Thor was here, well, there was no reason he shouldn’t use it to his advantage.

“I see. You’re worried perhaps about leaving her alone here with the monster in the dungeons? It’s understandable. Besides, you would not want to be separated from your lady love again so soon, I’m sure.” He let the sentence hang for a moment. Perfectly amiable but ever so slightly concerned as he added, “but what of the Lady Darcy? No, no I imagine her powers are far too unstable to bring on such a journey. I’m amazed Odin has even allowed her sanctuary here,” he made a show of a sigh, pulse picking up as he sowed the seed of his idea, his great plan, “not when she’s more likely to destroy herself, and anyone around her, than learn control. Such a waste of potential.”

The muscle in Thor’s jaw jumped. “Mother is seeing that she is well taught.”

Of course Thor was so caught up in his denials he wouldn’t think to question how Loki came by his information. _Idiot_. Still, all the better for him.

“She is a fine caster,” he nodded, letting his brow furrow ever so slightly as he tended the soil. “But I can’t help but think it won’t be enough. She is a seer after all, not a sorcerer, and her official duties will surely take up most of her time.” Thor blanched, the wheels in his head turning so loudly it was astounding the sound didn’t echo off the walls. It was low-hanging fruit but Loki picked it anyway, adding almost to himself, “If only there was someone more used to dealing with the _chaotic_ side of magic. Such a pity. Another mortal life lost on your watch…”

Thor hesitated and Loki knew that he had won. Victory had never tasted sweeter.

 

—-

 

The books on Asgard were enchanted, because duh, of course they were. What was the point of a magic library on a magic planet if everyone couldn’t enjoy the fun?

Darcy ran her finger along the page, the runes shifting and changing as she read. English and totally not English all at the same time as her brain seemed to absorb the words. She was still learning the basics. Flower-growing was stage one of something called manifestation apparently, then there was illusion, transformation, dimensional folding, and something called mindful acuity and kinetic manipulation. To her best knowledge that was what the comic books called telepathy and telekinesis respectively.

It was some fascinating shit.

“ _Oh_.”

The soft noise of surprise snapped Darcy to attention.

“Forgive me, Lady Darcy,” Thor bowed ever so slightly, his usual booming voice hushed in the book-lined room. “I did not expect to find you here.”

Closing her book with a smile, Darcy wiggled up in her chair. The soft green velvet had called to her from the moment she’d entered one of the palace’s many cavernous, and empty, libraries. It’s plush cushions and high back promising comfort and solitude in equal measures.

“I liked the privacy walls,” she joked as she closed her book, Thor dropping into the closest chair, red leather and far less ornate. “You Asgardians sure know how to decorate.”

“Yes, it was a favourite of my brother’s. The number of times I had to pull him from it to join the feasting...” he smiled wistfully, suddenly looking every inch his mother’s son.

Darcy felt sick again, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. The warm velvet became too soft, too inviting, sucking her in like taffy.

“I didn’t realise.”

“It’s of no import really,” Thor sighed, shaking his head as if he could shake the thoughts away with it. His expression lightened, dimples popping as he beamed at her. “Jane tells me she has informed you of our coming departure?”

That was better; something about happy Thor just brightened up the mood. Whether that was an Asgardian trait or just him though she didn’t know, still it was no wonder Jane loved the guy.

“Yeah, she did.” She smiled, setting the book aside completely. “When are you kids leaving?”

“On the morrow, but,” he hesitated, puppy dog eyes turning soulful, “will you be alright here without us, Lady Darcy? We would not wish to abandon you in your hour of need.”

Hell, she officially loved him too. Not in the same way of course, not that he wasn’t totally buff because, _obviously,_  but still. She’d always had a thing for the tall, dark, ’n’ brooding type herself.

“Aww, thanks for the concern big guy,” she reached over to slug a shoulder carved out of warm marble. “But I’ll be fine. I got a ton to do here, all this studying and stuff, and your mom is like… the best person I’ve met.”

“Your lessons are going well then?”

“Eh…” she bit her tongue, erring on the side of ‘less is more’ when it came to honesty on that particular subject. No need to tell him exactly how weird and fucked up her powers still were. “It’s still all a bit… new. But I got all these books and your mom’s a great teacher. I’m actually waiting for her now-” The door swished open, Frigga sweeping in in all her majestic glory, “Speak of the… uh… Queen.”

“Darcy, I apologize for my delay - Oh! Thor, I didn’t expect to see you here, son. I thought you were preparing for your journey with dear Jane?”

Thor rose sheepishly, accepting a hug with the sort of easy affection Darcy had only ever dreamed of. She tried not to admit to the pang of jealousy she felt as they embraced.

It was bizarre.

And _lovely_.

“I was just wishing the Lady Darcy farewell in case there was no time later, but now you are here…”

“You have something to talk to me about,” Frigga sighed, patting Thor’s cheek like he was ten instead of a thousand-and-something. “Something terribly important from the look on your face. A little controversial even.  _Hmm_.”

“You get all that from a face?” Darcy couldn’t help but interject; Thor had looked pretty damn normal to her and she prided herself on reading people.

“A face and oh, about a thousand years of experience.” Frigga winked, reaching over to squeeze Darcy’s arm, “why don’t you go ahead to our garden dear. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Sure thing.” She smiled before turning to Thor. “Well, I guess I’ll see _you_ in a few weeks or whatever big man, take care of Jane for me will ya? If anything happens to her I _will_ tase your ass, _again._ ”

“I will take the utmost care of her, Lady Darcy; you have my word.” Thor swept her into a bone-crushing hug. “And you must take care of yourself too. We will be thinking of you.”

“Sure will. Laters, Thor.”

With the warmth of his affection still buoying her, Darcy headed for the garden. It wouldn’t be so bad when they left; she was sure she could handle it.

 

—-

 

It was less than a week since Jane and Thor had left and Darcy was officially losing it. Stuck on a planet with no friends to talk to, no Netflix to distract her, and the mounting concern that her new powers were less ‘super’ than ‘a super fucking bad idea’ she took to wandering the halls of the palace between lessons and study sessions.

Her head thumped with everything she’d learned, constantly at war with herself even as she tried not to be. It wasn’t her fault; she was usually a laid back kinda gal. Always had been. But for some reason she just couldn’t square away this new Darcy she was expected to be with well… _her,_ the Darcy-Darcy she’d spent the better part of two and a half decades being.

It was a nightmare.

The Asgardians were nice but she hadn’t really gotten to know any of them, she could tell they avoided her in the halls and their conversation was strained at dinner. Even Randolph had stopped trying to talk to her outside of the banquet hall. Whether it was her mortal status or the crazy bad witch magic she had inherited she didn’t know, it just meant she was alone. A lot.

If it wasn’t for the family of cats living on the patio upstairs she might have lost her mind. That and, well, the fictionalised version of a mass murderer she’d created in her head to try and work out her identity issues. ‘Cos _that_ was healthy.

“Husband!” The whip-crack of a voice from down the hall had her jumping out of her skin, darting behind a pillar on instinct as the noise drew closer. She wasn't entirely sure she was allowed in this part of the castle before after all, better safe than sorry. “Why will you not listen to reason?”

Queen Frigga of Asgard, magic legend and actual goddess stomped her foot against the flagstones as Darcy tried not breathe too loudly. Why had she hidden again? She was friends with Frigga right? 

But… something told her to stay put and she’d learned to listen to her gut.

“It seems I have done nothing _but_ listen these three weeks since!”

Odin. Oh shit. The big man. The one eyed wonder. _That_ was why.  Silently thanking her impeccable instincts she shrank even further into the shadows, trying desperately to remember that one weird chapter she’d read on concealment spells even as she listened in on the unfolding conversation.

 _Hard_.

How often did you get the chance to eavesdrop on actual space royalty?

“You agreed as well as I did, the girl is Asgard’s responsibility, her powers come from our kingdom and it is upon our shoulders this situation now rests.” Frigga said, her tone daring defiance.

Darcy blanched.

_The girl?_

They didn’t mean… _surely_ , they couldn’t mean…

“Yes and you disagreed with me that the best course of action would be to deal with the threat swiftly and at once. I allowed Darcy Lewis to live, despite my own misgivings, I allowed you to help her, what more can you want from me, wife?”

Darcy’s blood went cold, freezing up from within as the words echoed in her skull.

He wanted her dead.

Odin, _King of Asgard_ , wanted her dead.

“I want you to see reason! The healers have done all they can for her, I am trying to help as much as I am able but Darcy needs more. Her powers were thrust upon her all at once, abilities and energies it would take century to understand.”

“Well? What do you want me to do about it, I am no expert in your ways.”

“No,” Frigga agreed, “but she needs guidance from the _strongest_ of our magic users, you know as well as I that there is no finer magician than-”

_“No.”_

_“Husband.”_

“No!” Dust rained from the ceiling, Darcy flinching at the sudden roar, “Loki is to serve his punishment. I will not expose his wickedness to anyone under our protection.”

_Loki._

Her fictional version was one thing, but the real deal? Darcy’s hands began to shake, her back pressed tight against the slick stone pillar. She wanted to scream, to charge out from her hiding place and smack the words from their mouths. To use every inch of her so-called power to force them to take it back. To keep him locked away and her safe.

She couldn’t.

Her traitorous legs had frozen in place, all too human as she stood scared and silent in the darkness.

“There is no other way,” Frigga stressed as they passed directly behind Darcy’s hiding spot. _“_ Besides, did it not do Thor a world of good to associate with those of Midgard? Perhaps by helping her, Loki might start to atone himself. He may even find humility and understanding in such a task.”

“Woman, you are mad. You know our son better than that.”

They agreed on that at least.

“And you know _me_ better than that.”

“You will not give up, will you, my queen?” Odin sighed, their footsteps fading as they headed further down the hallway.

“I am as stubborn as you, my king.” She could hear the smile in Frigga’s voice, it made her sick. The whole thing did. She swallowed down bile, her insides squeezing.

“One chance,” Odin grouched, Darcy straining to hear them now, “but at the first sign of trouble-”

“Thank you beloved, it will be for the best, you’ll see.”

The silence washed back in, deafening as Darcy’s knees sagged at last. Unable to hold herself up any longer she slid to the ground, barely feeling the cold seeping into her from ice-frosted tiles below.

 _For the best._ Frigga had said. _The best for who?_

Not only had Odin wanted her dead, probably still did for that matter, but Frigga - the _one_ person she trusted on this planet outside of Jane and Thor - wanted her to work with Loki. _Loki._ The man who’d tried to destroy her world. Who’d personally tried to kill her and her friends in New Mexico.

How… how could Frigga do this to her? Treat her like nothing more than a lab rat to test _him_ on _._ She was a _person_ dammit.

And she was alone.

Jane was gone, Thor too. Leaving her stranded on an alien planet with no one else to turn too.

No one to fight this battle but herself.

She barely noticed as the pillars around her began to shudder, the ground trembling with a roll of distant thunder.


	8. Show and a Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! So I’m fairly obviously borrowing some stuff from Dark World in this chapter - however! This fic isn’t going to be following/including the events of that film. With Jane not on earth there’s no one to find the Aether, and no Aether no dark elves, right? 😅
> 
> Anyway! I really hope you enjoy it 💜 And thanks as always to my amazing Betas!

 

 

There was nothing Odin loved more than a show, all of the pomp and ceremony of the armed guards dragging his wayward son across the throne room in irons. Chained up and muzzled like a dog.

Well if it was a show they wanted, what choice did Loki have but to oblige? Going through the motions as his mother was sent from the room, leaving him to face the all powerful Allfather alone.

Really, such _drama._

“If I am for the axe then for mercy's sake just swing it.” It was all he could do to refrain from rolling his eyes. They’d played this scene over too many times already, “It's not that I don't love our little talks, it's just ... I don't love them.”

“Frigga is the only reason you are still alive, if it were up to me-” Odin bit the sentence off. _Yes,_ thought Loki, _I know very well what you’re decision would be, hypocrite that you are._ “She has seen fit to give you a choice, a final chance we both know you don’t deserve. Pick wisely Loki. Either spend your days rotting in the dungeon where you belong, never to see your mother again, or agree to begin atoning for your sins by aiding the life of a mortal you so disdain.”

“Oh I don’t disdain mortals, _allfather,”_ Loki said, the title a bright mockery in his mouth as he made a show of ignoring his ever so serious words, “although I can’t confess to _loving_ them as your real son does.”

“Decide Loki. This is a mercy you will not be offered twice.”

How he wanted to spit in Odin’s eye, tell him to take his so called mercy and choke on it.

But he couldn’t, not yet at least. That would be foolish, and if there was one thing he was not it was foolish. He played the long game, _his_ game.Besides _,_ there would be plenty of time for that later when he could relish in his revenge properly. Savour each moment in glorious detail.

For now he had to suck up his venom, swallow it down and play the role assigned to him. The role he had created for himself.

“Oh very well then,” he sighed theatrically, “I suppose I have nothing else to occupy me at the moment. I can spare some time for your little _project_.”

“Take the prisoner to his quarters, and - remember this Loki-” He could practically hear Odin’s teeth grinding together as he said it, frustrated rage rolling off the old man in waves, “there will be no more chances. Make a mess of this-”

“Yes yes,” Loki cut him off with a care free shrug of his shoulders, “rotting in a cell, forgotten forever, I’m familiar with your threats.”

Loki grinned as they hustled him away, they had made a mistake when they asked him to tutor Darcy Lewis.

One they’d be paying for in _spades._

 

_—-_

 

The wine at dinner that night was sour.

Darcy didn’t care, silently seething in her place as Odin scowled down from the head table, demanding fresh libations be brought forth immediately.

They _deserved_ sour wine, all of them, and worse besides. These wannabe gods with their matching god complexes.

Odin wanted to kill her.

Frigga wanted to serve her up to Loki, which hey, was practically the same thing. There’d been some big _thing_ in the throne room earlier, she’d heard the guards muttering about it. About how _he_ had been moved.

_Loki._

Her fist clenched against the table, nails biting into her palm as she forced herself to focus on the moment. The grain of the wood, the murmur of conversation, of disgust. The sudden sickly sweet smell she couldn’t place.

The shield maiden opposite her gasped as she picked something up with her fork, the meat black and oozing on her plate. Bowls of fruit rotting where they sat.

Decay.

It was the scent of decay.

“Darcy-” the hand on her shoulder had her snapping to attention, fork raised defensively even as her eyes caught up to her actions.

Frigga. _Queen_ Frigga.

She dropped the fork even as the bile rose in her throat. Somehow heart sick and guilty even when she knew she should be furious. She _wanted_ to be furious but now… now she just felt _sad._

“Come with me child,” Frigga said, leaving Darcy no choice but to follow as she swept quietly from the banquet. The weight of dozens of pairs of eyes following her.

The other Asgardians already avoided her, this was just adding fuel to the freakish dumpster fire of her life.

“Deep breaths,” Frigga was comforting her, both hands clasped around hers where they came to a halt in the empty hallway outside. She smelt like wildflowers and talc, warm and safe, “in and out, like we practised.”

“I know.” Darcy blurted out, unable to stop herself. Hating the sting in the back of her eyes as she glared at the queen, “I know what you’re planning and I won’t do it. I won’t have anything to do with that psycho.”

“Oh,” Frigga’s expression softened further, eyes creasing in concern, “I see now. Darcy-”

“How could you?” She cut her off, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, “you didn’t even ask me… you just... _Why_?”

“Darcy listen to me,” the firm edge was back in Frigga’s voice, holding onto her just a fraction tighter and forcing Darcy to look at her, “I understand, you may not believe it but I do. My son… my son has done _terrible_ things, especially to your people, there is no denying it. But you need help, help that I alone cannot provide.”

“And if I refuse? Then what?” Her bottom lip trembled even as she stuck her chin out fiercely, “you’re just gonna let Odin have at me? Do away with the problem for good like he wanted?”

“Never.” Frigga squeezed her hands so hard it hurt, “believe this if nothing else Darcy Lewis. I will never let any harm befall you on my watch, not from my husband, not from my son. I only want what’s best for you.”

_Damn it._

Darcy clenched her eyes shut, she wanted to tell her where to shove it, honestly she did. But she _couldn’t._ Not when she believed every word Frigga had just said.

Darcy believed in good people, and Frigga, for all her faults, was good people.

“He tried to destroy us.” She said at last, opening her eyes and flinching at the hope in Frigga’s gaze _,_ “Loki. He tried to kill Thor. He tried to take over my freaking _planet_.”

“I know,” Frigga said quietly, sounding almost uncertain for the first time. Almost desperate, “but Darcy, please, I have lived in this universe long enough to know that things are not always as they seem. I have seen futures come and go, and pasts change with new light. Give it a chance.”

 _Him_ a chance. That’s what she meant.

The murderer.

The… _son._

What wouldn’t she have given for a mother that fought for her like that? _Cared_ for her like that?

The weight of her magic pulsed against her skin, a whirlwind she could barely control. It had battled her all week, a sick burning in her chest she couldn’t seem to escape no matter how hard she tried.

“It was me wasn’t it?” She asked, mouth painfully dry, “at dinner just now, the rotting food. And that earthquake storm thingy two days ago…”

She remembered the exploding pear, the table, the way the room shook when she got frustrated and the garden full of thorny flowers.

“Yes.” Frigga replied sombrely, “I am trying my best Darcy but your powers… they’re incredibly strong. _You_ are incredibly strong. But you need more guidance than I alone can provide.”

“One chance,” she said, regretting the words immediately.

As much as she hated him, and the world by proxy for putting her in this position, she couldn’t risk any more damage  Any more hurt. If she could use him to help herself she would.

And hey, afterwards she could always use her super cool in control powers to kick him straight back into the dungeons where he belonged. And then tase him for good measure afterwards...

Yeah. Maybe, just maybe, she could do this.

 


	9. Truth or Don’t you Dare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright alright alright - so pretty much all of you will know where I yoinked this idea from (help my fandoms are showing) but darn it it was so fitting! I had too!
> 
> My forever thanks as always to my beautiful beta’s and to you magnificent people who read and comment! Your words keep me from crawling under my bed and never coming out again like the anxious writing goblin I am! 💜

 

 

She couldn’t do this.

Nope. No way. If Frigga hadn’t been holding onto her arm she would have run screaming in the other direction, not moseying into the cell of a real life _super villain_.

Okay so it wasn’t technically a cell, not any more at least. It seemed like they’d moved _him_ up a few floors since she’d last seen him. A quick glance showed her that the room wasn’t so different from her own, a swanky looking sitting room, a few doors, and a balcony to the back.

The difference came in the fact it was at the ass-end of the palace, about as far from the main drag as you could get, and the four heavily armed guards standing outside it and, oh yeah, Mr Tall Dark and Murderous waiting to meet them.

_Yay._

There was one upside to this at least; she’d managed to find something other than another ridiculously long dress to wear. She could run a lot faster in her new Viking leggings and tunic combo than any dress.

Which was perfect for when this all went to hell.

“Darcy,” Frigga smiled, somehow still all sunshine warmth and normalcy even as they entered the lion’s den, “I’d like to introduce you to my youngest son, Loki. Loki, this is Darcy Lewis.”

“We’ve met.” He smugged smugly, Darcy’s hands clenching as she remembered their one actual face-to-face, not including that time he tried to roast her alive with a giant robot, of course. Down in the darkness when he’d compared destroying her world to cracking eggs for an omelette.

_Asshole._

“Oh,” Frigga’s mouth parted, turning to Darcy in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

“He tried to kill me in New Mexico once,” Darcy bared her teeth in a smile, narrowing her eyes at Loki. No one needed to know about her sneaking around the castle unaccompanied after all, the last thing she wanted was armed guards of her own. “Fun times.”

“Loki!” Frigga scolded, earning the _fakest_ look of remorse ever seen from her son.

“A tragic misunderstanding, my lady,” she didn’t have chance to protest before Loki had taken her hand, cool fingers wrapped around hers. He held on too tightly as he bowed over it. “I was really only aiming for Thor that day.”

“ _Loki,”_ Frigga warned again, lower this time, as Darcy snatched her hand back. “Behave yourself.”

Her skin was _buzzing,_ probably some sort of evil magic at work, making her hyper aware of the imprint of his hand even as she scrubbed her palm against her side.

“Behave, _me_?” Loki raised a brow, that bastard smirk still playing about his face. “Always.”

Her kingdom for a taser.

“Yes, well then, I suppose I should leave you both to it.” Frigga sighed, untucking her arm from Darcy’s and reaching up briefly to kiss her son’s cheek, “play nicely.”

“Yes mother,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly as Frigga headed for the door.

Darcy gaped, a full three seconds passing before her brain caught up with her.

“W-wait - you’re leaving?” She squeaked, lungs shrinking painfully as she half ran after the Queen

“Of course,” Frigga waved breezily. “You two don’t want me getting in the way. I’ll be close by if you need me though. Good luck!”

And with that she was gone and Darcy was alone again with the monster of Asgard _._ This time there were no magic force fields to protect her, no weapons, no glossy safety of knowing it was just a dream and she was in control.

Uh-uh.

This was him and her and a _whole_ lot of trouble.

 

—-

 

Alone at last.

The brave little immortal-mortal girl was glaring at him. The way her hands balled at her sides giving away her nervousness just as easily as the faint tremor of her lip and the way her eyes darted too quickly when he moved.

He approached slowly, head tilting as he considered her in the sudden silence. No earthly wear now, nor that of a fine Asgardian lady, instead she wore clothing more suited to a warrior-in-training. Buckskin breeches and an ocean blue tunic that did little to hide the fact there was nothing warrior-like about her figure at all.

“Well,” she spoke first, straight white teeth clenched hard, “get to it then. Teach me.”

“What?” He asked, unable to help himself as he circled her, “no foreplay? You were so talkative before.”

Ah he recognised _that_ expression, the one that said she’d rather punch him in the face than reply. Good, a reaction was what he needed, and anger was better than fear.

“Very well,” he sighed, coming to a halt a step closer than strictly necessary to keep her off balance. “I’ve never had a student before but I think you’ll find me to be a firm, but fair, master.”

“Dude.” Her dark eyes widened, mouth falling open in disbelief, “you are _so_ not my master.”

“What have you learned so far?” He cut in as if he hadn’t heard her, sweeping away again to make a show of examining a tapestry on the other side of the room.

“Uh… organic manifestation of flowers, small object displacement,” she ticked them off, following in his wake like he had known she would, “basic concealment, that kind of stuff.”

“Ah, let me rephrase then,” he turned back, raising a brow at her imperiously, “what have learnt besides parlour tricks and children’s amusements?”

“Hey, isn’t that what _you’re_ for?” If looks could kill Darcy Lewis would have been a serious threat. Her eyes sparked like the very hottest part of a flame, a muscle in her jaw ticking as she added darkly, “You talk a big game for someone who had to get someone _else_ to fight his battles for him.”

“What do you mean?” He was in front of her before he’d registered moving, spine tense as he towered over her.

“What I said.” She raised her voice, the familiar static sensation of magic filling the air. “First the big metal robot, then the chipotles. Like, seriously, if you actually wanted to take over Earth you’d have had better luck fighting against them than with them. Not that that’s what you wanted, of course.”

“Chitauri,” he corrected automatically, swept away by the sudden clawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, the memories he had no wish to revisit. “And your logic eludes me.”

It didn’t, but he wouldn’t admit that. Wouldn’t admit just how many of her words were finding their mark in the chinks of his armour. The torture, the tesseract, it had made him careless.

Blood thirsty.

It had brought out every dark, hateful instinct and amplified them beyond control. It had made him impatient. _Desperate_. A slave to his own shadows.

To Thanos.

But no more. He was his own man again.

Wasn’t he?

“Don’t be dense,” she scowled at him, a faint rattling coming to his attention. Around them the furniture was shaking ever so slightly, and he had no doubt as to its source. “You know that the enemy of an enemy is a friend. A few saves, a few wise words and that godly bullshit your kind pulls. A couple of years of that and there’s a good possibility we would have _given_ control to you willingly. You didn’t want to rule us, you just wanted to _hurt_ us. You- you just wanted to hurt something your brother loves.”

“Enough.” He snapped as the rattling grew louder, books toppling from their shelves in her anger. He hurled a binding spell at her, his own magic sharp and painful in his veins. “I can see why they were worried, you’re a _menace_ to yourself and everyone around you.”

“That’s rich,” she sneered, breathing hard as she fought his power on instinct, “coming from _you.”_

 _“_ And what of you,” he heard himself reply, skin growing cold as he crowded her space. Revelling in the hatred in her eyes, the _fear,_ it was what he had always expected. Always deserved. He clasped her chin between his fingers, making her look at him. “What is it that makes such an _inconsequential_ little creature worthy of such powers?”

She opened her mouth to reply but he didn’t let her, the anger taking over, raging to meet hers as his own control bent and snapped like a reed in the wind. The shadows rolled over him, forcing him into the self he tried to forget.

“May I?”

 

—-

 

His fingers were icy against her fevered skin, voice like steel as it sliced into her skull. She was burning, the magic fighting for freedom as she looked up into icy green eyes.

Then the world spun. Her body bowing beneath the power as it rushed into her, unfamiliar and unwelcome and _his_. He was inside her head, her _skin,_ plunging her into her memories and waiting for her to drown.

She saw the apple, the words, tasted sweetness and shock. Felt the cheap satin of her prom dress, and the grit of sand in her eyes blown up from the Destroyer in the desert. All the little big things in her life. Kissing Doug Jennings behind the bleachers. Her college acceptance letter.

She felt cigarette butts burning into her skin, perfect round holes that stank like tobacco and seared flesh. The vinger-harsh scent of something burning in a spoon, the rattle rasp of Karen’s breathing when she found one of the few veins left to her.

Karen.

She saw Karen. Stringy hair, cold eyes, and colder arms.

Heard her own voice calling for mommy. Heard the day she stopped. Music. There was music, played loud in her headphones to cover up the sounds outside.

No. No she didn’t want to be back here. She’d escaped. She’d escaped. She’d…

Loki. Loki was there, _watching,_ standing at the corner of the trailer with a look of such fascination it made her feel sick. Sicker. She couldn’t stand it, any of it, rage sweeping through her like the tide until there was nothing left but a molten gold sea of fury she would drown _him_ in.

She leapt at him with a scream, feeling the world tilt again, off balance and tumbling as she fell. And fell. And fell.

Stars burst around her, an endless fall that lodged her heart in her throat. A hand, a voice, a Titan. Thanos. They called him Thanos, the creatures did, before they pulled Loki apart again and again on his orders.

She watched, outside and in at once as he was tortured in ways she couldn’t imagine. Feeling his head splitting, cold white power coursing through his veins like battery acid.

The rest came in flashes, the agreement, the sceptre, the way it changed him. Worsened him. And the time before. A child holding his mother’s hand. Brothers fighting, playing. A cold shadow and a large legacy.

Cold… there was something cold…

The world tilted again and so suddenly she couldn’t register it she was back in reality. All too aware of the hard flagstones beneath her knees and the warm body under hers.

Green eyes glared up at her, defensive and unsure _._ She glared back, breathing hard as she tried to put reality back together with whatever the hell _that_ was. Shards of memory cutting at her, a sharp contrast to the butter-soft black leather she had fisted in her hands.

His collar.

She scrambled backwards, hurling herself off him so hard she hit her shoulder on a low table. Staring warily at him through her snarled hair as her heart threatened to beat its way out of her ribs, the stupid mark on her chest _burning_.

“What. The fuck. Was that.”

He stared back at her like she might attack at any moment. It might have been funny in any other situation, if he hadn’t just shoved himself into her mind and wreaked havoc with her thoughts.

“I’m not entirely sure myself.”

She shook her head, “you had _no right_ to get all up in my head. That… that was _not_ for you.”

“Likewise,” he was tense as a bow, gaze still flicking over her in a way that made her want to snarl at him. “It was a mistake I will not make again; you have my word on that.”

The door slammed open, Darcy’s heart jumping violently as the four big-ass guards rushed in with their weapons drawn. Frigga sweeping through behind them, face taut with worry.

“What happened?” Her gaze seemed to take in the room in a split second before turning sharply to her son. Darcy shook her head, seeing it as they must. The broken things and toppled books. Loki had leapt up when the door opened, standing like he expected a fight, but she was still flat on her ass on the floor trying to make her head stop spinning.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have the urge to tell Frigga ‘ _I told you so.’_ She’d known it was a bad idea from the start.

Big whoop for her.

“A minor incident,” Loki said, his gaze still on her even as Frigga helped her stand. “I simply needed to get the measure of her power.”

“And did you?” Frigga asked.

“Oh, yes.”

Darcy looked away first, unable to bear it any longer. There was just so _much_ there bubbling away beneath the surface. Memories that weren’t hers, things she hadn’t known, that maybe _no one_ knew.

“I think that’s enough for one day.” Frigga was pulling her from the room, “come along, dear.”

She felt Loki’s eyes on her long after the door shut, a heavy weight between her shoulder blades.

Frigga waited a full five minutes before she spoke again. The guards had been left outside the door but she lowered her voice anyway. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Darcy replied, swallowing as she tried to loosen up her dry throat. “He tried to read my mind, I think. The _asshole_. But then I was in his head instead. I saw… I don’t know.” She shuddered as something cold crawled up her spine, “I think maybe… maybe New York wasn’t all him. I mean sure it was _him_ but there was someone else in his head too. Frigga...”

“Hush child,” Frigga drew her into a hug, smoothing back her tangled hair with a soft smile that made her suddenly want to cry. “It’s alright. It will be alright. I have long suspected there were other forces at play here; I just wish he would talk to me.”

“Why won’t he?” Darcy’s already lax filters disengaged entirely as she shook her head, exasperation rising to the surface. “And why does he hate Thor and Odin so much? I just don’t get it. Well okay, no offence but I _kinda_ get it with  Odin. He’s a… y’know….” Okay, filters back on please, insulting the King of Asgard to his wife was _not_ her best idea no matter how shitty she was feeling. “But Thor? He’s a golden retriever with a hammer.”

And who in the hell could keep a grudge against Frigga? Sure, she could be, like, _super_ meddlesome and unilateral in her whole ‘mom knows best’ schtick but that didn’t seem like nearly enough.

Frigga sighed with the weight of eons. “You may as well know, child; it is hardly a secret any more. Loki was not born to us, not like he believed. Odin found him on the battlefield, a babe abandoned by his kind. He was… is… a Jotun by blood. I always meant to tell him the truth but the moment never seemed right and then - awful as it sounds, I forgot.” She shook her head sadly. “He was my son, he _is_ my son. That is all there’s ever been to it.”

“Wait…” her eyes stung, brain threatening to short circuit entirely as she took it all in. “ _Jotun_? Like the big frost people? Aren’t they the bad guys?”

All the books she’d read so far said as much. There was some big power struggle between the realms. War. The usual political upheaval and massive death tolls.

“Asgard would have you think so, and to my shame I never worked hard enough to dispel those notions.” They were at Darcy’s door, although for the life of her she couldn’t remember the journey, her head all fuzzy with leftover magic and other people’s memories. “So you see, Darcy, I am to blame too. He thought he was a monster, so a monster he became.”

She didn’t know what to say to that, the day weighing her down like concrete boots. Thanos, the sceptre, _Loki._ It explained one thing at least...

No wonder he had such a shit invasion plan.

  



	10. Dream Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! 😊 Here’s another lil chapter, I really hope you enjoy it! I seriously cannot thank the people reading and commenting enough - you are turning this fic into a beast and I love you forever for it! (And of course thanks to my beta-utiful beta’s 💜 As always lol!)

 

Darcy Lewis knew far too much and Loki only had himself to blame.

He’d been reckless, riled up by her words. He, who had always prided himself on his control, had lost it again. Becoming the shadow self he thought he’d exiled. It wasn’t until she was in his thoughts he even realised what he’d done.

It was infuriating.

Something about Darcy Lewis affected him, her power perhaps. The chaotic simmer of her magic picking at his, scratching like a bored cat at his restraint. Or maybe it was just _her_.

Maybe she was just so outspoken, so annoying, so… _different_ to the Aesir he’d always been surrounded by he had no choice but to react.

Whatever the case if he didn’t get his act together soon his plans were in danger of falling apart. He needed Darcy on his side, not at his throat, if he could convince her to turn her powers against the restraints they’d placed around him he would be free in no time.

She’d be a powerful ally if they didn’t end up killing each other first.

Still, he was planning to approach their next meeting like one might approach a wild animal. Carefully and with no small amount of apprehension.

He certainly wasn’t expecting to find her standing outside of his washroom the very next evening.

“Oh god please don’t be a weird sex dream, I _so_ cannot handle that right now.”

He blinked, taking in her midgardian fashion and the late hour and putting two and two together.

“I mean don’t get me wrong, this is all very-” she waved her hand at his bare torso descriptively, “ _enticing_. Theoretically. But I am way too tired, dude, and this is like a whole bag of messed up.”

 _Enticing_ , hmm? Loki stuck on the word, unable to help the specific brand of smugness it evoked. He made a show of stretching lazily before passing her into the room.

He was not naive. Sex, seduction, it was all a game. Another weapon to be wielded when necessary, a ploy of pretty words and sweat to achieve his ends. It had never been more than that, he had never let it.

Then again, he was hardly the poster child of Asgardian male beauty, too weak, too bookish to ever attract the attention that Thor and his merry warriors did. His only comely feature was his bloodline and he had long learned to see through those who coveted that.

Now he didn’t even have that to recommend him.

Not that Darcy seemed to care.

Still, it was a weapon he was hesitant to use just yet. Better to make an ally than a potential future enemy if his plan went awry, but that was not to say the couldn’t indulge in a little _harmless_ flirtation perhaps.

“Good evening to you too, Lady Darcy,” he flopped onto the daybed, eyeing her up from across the room knowingly, “so you still believe this to be a dream then?”

“Duh.”

“How can you be so sure?” He watched her as she followed him, clearing his throat meaningfully when her gaze strayed south of his face again.

She looked up, a faint blush in her cheeks as she shrugged at him, “Real Loki is a total dick. Dream Loki is, y’know, less of a dick.”

“Thank you,” he raised an eyebrow at her, “I think.”

“So what are you representing today then,” she sighed, dropping into the chair opposite him and pulling her legs up underneath her, “aside from my obvious dry spell.”

“Must I represent something? It’s very tiresome being the symbol of your issues you know.”

“Ha yeah, you got enough of them of your own, that Thanos thing - damn.” She shook her head, voice dropping as she fiddled with the laces of her boots, “I thought I had it rough.”

“You did,” he shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to pace as her memories flickered to the surface of his mind, the scars of hatred and neglect hidden so well he never would have guessed she bore them at all, “we neither of us have the monopoly on suffering it seems.”

“Guess not.”

Silence lingered between them, uncomfortable because of the way it didn’t feel uncomfortable at all.

“You’re not dreaming you know,” he said at last, propping himself up on his elbow to better look at her. If she could see him as, in her words, _less of a dick,_ everything could be so much easier.

“Sure,” she smiled then, warmth glowing from beneath her skin as she rolled her eyes at him, “I’m having a civil conversation with the half naked _real_ Loki, so not possible.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Oh come on, he’d rather cut his arm off than actually engage with an _inconsequential creature_ like myself _.”_ She huffed, “The guy’s just as bad as Odin. You know he called us goats? Odin I mean. I’m still not over that and honestly? I’m never gonna be.”

Is that how she saw him then? He couldn’t help but cringe at the comparison, unwilling to believe he had anything in common with the man he’d once called father.

“You’re not a mortal anymore,” he said, possibly the wrong thing.

“ _Dude_.”

Okay definitely the wrong thing. Noted.

“It doesn’t signify,” he sighed, waving the conversation away, “just remind me to introduce you to the concept of astral projection the next time we meet.”

“You think I should come back then?”

“Who better to teach you? For all my faults, I am an expert on the subject of magic… and chaos.”

“I suppose so.” She nodded, chewing on her thumbnail, “this is gonna be a train wreck.”

He didn’t doubt it.

 

—-

 

“I’m here again.”

“So I see.”

Three days had passed since disastrous lesson number one, three days of short meetings with Frigga when she had time. Meetings Darcy already felt bad about, things were unsettled in the realms and Darcy knew Frigga had more important things to be doing than spending all her time trying to help her.

To be honest she was starting to think she was unhelpable. Sure she could do the little spells and summonings but it all still felt so wrong to her. Like a dress two sizes too small or a bra with a bit of underwiring poking out.

It was all getting a bit much.

“Are you actually gonna teach me something today?” She asked, stepping warily into the room. Loki had been reading when she arrived, all ridiculous casual elegance as he snapped the book shut and set it aside. “Cos if you try and pull another Jedi mind trick I am _so_ out of here. I don’t even care.”

“It depends,” he replied, making her shift uncomfortably on her toes as he eyed her up and down. Part of her still very insistent on running the hell away, “on if you're willing to learn.”

“I am.”

She didn’t have much to lose after all, her powers permanently seemed to be one bad mood away from disaster. It was like having PMS on a nuclear level.

“Very well then, I have assessed the situation and come to the conclusion that your problem with control comes from a singular issue.” He stalked towards her but she held her ground, forcing herself to be brave even as he stepped into her bubble. No one had taught him about personal space clearly. She should talk to his mom about that.

“Which is?”

“You. Your powers are out of control because you have no wish to control them.”

She gaped.

“ _Excuse you?”_ She had never wanted to bitch slap anyone more in her life than she did in that moment, not even Goaty Odin, “What the hell do you think I’ve been doing for the past few months? Taking a fricking vacation? I have spent every second, every _drop_ of energy I got to make this thing go away! You don’t get to-”

He silenced her with a hand, “there, you said it yourself. You want to make it go away. You want to be _normal_ again. There is no normal anymore Darcy Lewis, there is you and there is your power and until you allow them to be one entity you will always be a danger.”

“Is that what you did?” She asked sharply before she could stop herself, “when you found out you weren’t who you thought, did you just _accept_ it?”

His eyes flashed and she tensed on instinct, biting down hard on the inside of her cheek.

_Danger Will Robinson! Danger danger!_

“What I did was my concern, we are talking about _you_ ,” his voice was a thin layer of ice on a bottomless black lake, one wrong step and she’d be sleeping with the fishes, “but perhaps you might consider that, as you have so rightly pointed out, I have a unique perspective on this issue and thus may have something _useful_ to add to it.”

“I suppose,” she conceded, guilt catching in her chest as she looked away, “ _Maybe._ ”

Yeah okay, that had been a low blow. She actually felt bad for the guy over that whole secret-Jotun thing, not for the _giant-robot-death-match_ thing that followed of course, but still. It must hurt like a bitch being lied too all your life. Being raised to believe in monsters only to find out you were one in the eyes of everyone you’d ever met.

At least she’d always known what Karen was.

“Fine, okay,” She took a deep breath, shook herself off, and squared her shoulders, “so how do I do this?”

“You are Darcy Lewis, are you not?” His gaze flickered down, almost physical as it traced the mark she _knew_ he couldn’t see under her tunic, “heir to the powers of Eris?”

“I guess.”

“Don’t guess.” He was right in front of her, gaze so sharp she could have cut herself on it, “own it. Magic is desire made real, it knows you don’t want it and so it’s fighting you. _Want_ it, Darcy Lewis.”

Was it totally inappropriate that she suddenly couldn’t look away from his mouth? His words rubbed down her spine like velvet as he crowded her, memories of her dreams shooting to the surface of her mind. Civil Loki, half naked Loki. Messed up prom kiss Loki.

He was close enough to kiss now.

“And here’s me thinking we’d be working on astral projection,” she murmured to herself as she tried to snap out of it, dazed and confused at the sudden twist in her thoughts. No matter how hot his accent was, or how bad she felt about his shitty upbringing, he was still Loki. He was still _dangerous_.

“I did say that didn’t I?” He shook his head, tendrils of hair sweeping over his shoulder to curl against his throat, “but it will be no use until you’ve overcome this first step.”

_I did say that didn’t I._

Shut the front door.

“You… wait… you...” _come on Darcy,_ she shouted at herself as she gaped like a dying fish, _use your words you frickin idiot,_ “the dreams were _real_?!”

“I did try and tell you,” he shrugged.

“But they were…” oh jeez the prom dream, surely _that_ wasn’t real too, “how many of them?”

“Why?” He smirked, eyes flicking over her again, “how many have you had?”

“I… but last time... you were naked!” She yelped, waving her hand uselessly at him as all the blood in her body abandoned its posts to rush straight to her face. “And you let me just sit there and talk at you”

“Half naked,” he corrected primly, “and, what word did you use… oh yes, _enticing.”_

“I also called you a dick.” She pointed out loudly, pretty sure she was going to get a nose bleed at any moment.

“Yes that was rather less flattering.” He pulled at his cuffs, adjusting them carefully before looking up at her again with a glint in his eye, “but perhaps we should get back to the matter at hand?”

“Yes please,” she said way too quickly, the sooner this was over with the sooner she could hide under her bed forever and never come out again. “Me, control, owning my power. Let’s do it. Not _it._ Let’s - oh god let’s just get this over with.”

“Well said,” annnd she wanted to bitch slap him again, thank god. “So, are you ready to begin?”

“Yup, totally ready.” She was lying through her teeth but he didn’t seem to care.

“Very well then, close your eyes.”

That was a bad idea. A very, _very_ bad idea.

She did it anyway.

 

—-

 

“Do you feel it?”

Her face shifted, so expressive even with her eyes closed. An open book to him.

“I think so.”

It had been going better than he dared hope, a full forty minutes passing since she’d accepted the dreams were real. Since she accepted his help. And nothing had blown up yet.

A new record for them surely.

It would have been quicker if she hadn’t been quite so argumentative of course, fighting him at every turn as he tried to lull her into the inbetween. It was a familiar process, one he still remembered his mother doing for him so many eons ago. Finding that thread that connected you to the other place, the hidden space where magic lived between the realms. Wrapping it around yourself until you were one and the same.

Perhaps it might have taken _even_ less time if he hadn’t been quite so fascinated by the way the pink lingered in her cheeks long after she’d shut her eyes. It was flattering really, he hadn’t made a maiden blush in quite a while

“Describe it.” He coaxed her, setting the thought aside for the moment. He’d have  time to consider the subject of her reactions later.

“It’s like static, kinda. Heavy but not, y’know? It’s just sort of sitting there above my skin. Or under it. Not sure which.” She shook her head slightly, brow creasing as she studied the backs of her eyes, “it’s gold.”

“Good, that’s good.” She was a fast learner, he had to work to keep his own excitement at bay. Things were starting to move forward at last. Just because he was a master of control did not mean he was immune to impatience. “Now reach out for it, _welcome_ it.”

“I don’t know…” she sucked on the inside of her cheek, “how do I do that?”

“Think of all the things you want to do Darcy,” he pressed, feeling the lure of his own power rising to the surface at the thought. Unsettled and urgent somehow as if he wanted to do it for her, “all the things you _could_ do.”

“Like Matilda.” He didn’t understand the earthly reference but nodded anyway as she seemed to mull it over, enlightenment washing over her features at last, “I always wanted to be Matilda.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“Me.” She said, breathless as the static in the air seemed to double around them, different from before. It no longer pulsed angrily, instead it shivered, _waiting_ , “I’ve always been so sure of who I am but now… now I’m doubting everything.”

“So stop doubting.” He fought the urge to touch her, wanting to feel the surge of magic beneath her skin. To see the way her face would brighten when it sank in. It was fascinating to watch the process in another, “Imagine how good it will feel when you stop living like a stranger in you own, admittedly lovely, skin.”

“Smooth,” she laughed but he could hear the hitch in her voice, feel the change in her as she exhaled. The way the magic seemed to ebb and swirl around her, sinking into her, “I think… I think it’s working.”

“Just breathe, don’t take too much. Not yet. When you’re ready open your eyes.”

She did as she was told, he watched from far too close as at last she came back to herself. Her eyes so bright when they met his it almost hurt to look at them. Blue, but not the cold pale colour he had become so familiar with in the past, they were rich and dark like stormy waters.

“I think that’s enough for today,” clearing his throat he dragged himself away from her, “it was a good start though. Keep practicing the breathing my mother taught you when you feel your control slipping, it will help. We will work on more next time.”

“Oh, yeah, alright then.” He almost allowed himself to believe she sounded disappointed as she turned away. “Til next time then, I guess.”

“One thing-” he cursed himself silently as she hesitated at the door, curiosity had always been his downfall, “who’s Matilda?”

“You guys have gotta get Netflix here,” the corner of her mouth tilted up, eyebrows quirking as she looked back at him, “she’s from a movie. She had these awesome secret magic powers she used to mess with her shitty parents and awful headmistress. She saved the day, of course, and got adopted into a loving home. She was living the dream.”

Loki swallowed, unsure of how he felt about that particular plot line. Or how wistful her voice sounded when she spoke of it.

Her childhood had obviously not been a pleasant one, the darkness there buried so deep he had barely scraped it’s surface. How she could remain so unaffected however was beyond him, _she_ was beyond him. A puzzle he had yet to fully solve.

“I see,” he nodded curtly, waving her away when she hesitated, “until next time then.”

He needed time to think. To figure out exactly who he was dealing with, how best to handle her, and how it would affect his plans.

Of course in the end it was all about his plans.

  
  



	11. The Set Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re back back back again! My forever thanks to my beta and to everyone reading and commenting - life has taken a bit of a down turn recently but your kind words are honestly the bright spot of my day! Thank you! 💜

 

 

“Let me get this straight, you’re getting magic lessons from _Loki?”_

Darcy had tried to wait as long as possible after Jane’s return before dropping that particular bombshell, filling up as much time as she could with questions about Jane’s trip away. Did she have fun, did they have to throw hands, what was another other planet like.

Inevitably though the conversation came back to Darcy, how _she’d_ been, how her magic was, how… _this..._ had happened.

“Yup.”

“Insane, murderous, tried to take over New York Loki? That one?”

“Yup.” Sighing Darcy stopped picking at the fabulous dresses in Jane’s closet and turned back at last, “Well, kind of. Turns out there were some mitigating circumstances around the whole New York thing. Torture. Mind control. That kinda deal.”

“Did _he_ tell you that?” If Jane’s eyebrows got any higher they risked flying right off her face, disbelief palpable as she seized Darcy by the shoulders. Probably checking for enchantments or brain slugs or something.

“No! I think he’d rather chew glass than admit any sort of weakness,” Darcy protested bitterly, pushing back the echo of those awful memories, “we had a sort of… mind… meld battle thing. Trust me though, this whole magic lesson thing was _not_ my idea. Blame it on his mom.”

“This is not going to end well,” Jane backed up, rubbing at her temples as she started pacing, “maybe, I mean _maybe,_ New York had mitigating circumstances - which we will be discussing in great detail in a minute, but God, Darce, you saw what he did to Thor in New Mexico. And that was _before_ any of that.”

“I know.” Darcy felt the mark on her chest starting to heat up, tapping her fingers against it as she tried to remain calm, “he’s super messed up. But he might also be the only person who can help me get this thing under control before… before I hurt someone.”

“Oh Darce.” Jane’s face turned sad, Darcy looking away as she went back to the closet, “you’re gonna be okay.”

Was she?

She hadn’t thought so before but now, well… things had been easier hadn’t they? The lessons, the meditation stuff, she hadn’t poisoned any banquets since she started visiting him. Not that she’d been back to the banquets of course.

But still, her bill for broken Asgardian treasures and structural damages hadn’t climbed any higher at least.

Not that she told Jane any of this.

“Did you know about the adoption thing?” She asked instead, certain Thor would have filled her in at some point, “that’s so screwed up right? Like, not an excuse to try and crispy fry Thor, I know, but still. I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.”

“I guess,” Jane shrugged uncomfortably, dropping to sit at the edge of the bed. Every inch of space around her was filled up with ornate notebooks and scribbles on bits of parchment. Even in space she was sciencing. “I know it threw Thor for a loop for a while. He didn’t know before Loki found out, I think he still harbours a lot of guilt over the way he always thought about Jotun’s before. The way everyone still does.”

“It’s not his fault,” Darcy sighed, leaning against the sturdy wooden door of the wardrobe, “the whole planet is screwed up on that one. It’s like this society wide ingrained racism thing. Sure, they’re traditionally Asgard’s enemy, no doubting that. _And_ they’ve done some shitty things. But so has Asgard...” She shook her head. “To be raised in a society that demonises a whole fricking planet full of people? It’s bass ackwards.”

“You’re not wrong there,” Jane snorted, “You’ve seen how most of Asgard think of mortals too, the superiority complex is real.”

“They never mention _that_ in the fairy tales,” Darcy snorted, disturbing Jane’s work as she flopped down on the bed next to her, “ugh okay new subject. Tell me more about your adventures in Vanahana! Did you guys share a tent? Was it like _Game of Thrones_ sexy over there?”

“ _Darcy_ , you’re forgetting.” Jane grabbed her sleeve, pulling her away from her notes, “You still need to tell me more about these _mitigating circumstances_ around New York. If Loki wasn’t behind it then who was, and who knows about it?”

 

—-

 

“You need to talk to your mom.”

Loki blinked, looking up as Darcy breezed into his room like she owned it, he hadn’t been expecting her so soon, “why, what have I done now?”

“About what happened,” she braced her hands on her hips, incredibly fierce for such a small thing as she stared him down, “New York. The fall. The big purple dude I saw in your head who wants to destroy the universe. She needs to know.”

He tensed up all at once, baring his teeth at her as he rose to his feet, “That wasn’t yours to see.”

“You started it.”

“That as the case may be,” he bit down on a snarl, forcing himself into cold amiability even as he glared at her, “I would keep my memories my own, thank you.”

“Well that’s just fucking stupid.”

Something in his chest twinged, heat flaring through the ice like a supernova as he stalked closer, “And you Darcy Lewis? Do you so readily share the missteps and misfortunes of your past? Does Jane Foster know? Does Thor?”

“Wow,” her mouth fell open, pink bursting in her cheeks as she stared back at him with wide eyes, “that is so unfair. My shitty past didn’t hurt anyone but _me._ This guy could fuck up - oh I don’t know - _the entire universe.”_

“Hmm.”

Silence reigned, a sliver of something that might, in anyone else at least, have been guilt tugging at his ribs. It was unjust of him perhaps to bring up her own history, but a cornered animal attacks.

And what was he but another animal?

“Look,” her tone softened and he hated how it softened him too, trying to steel himself against the sentimentality she seemed to infect him with, “maybe what happened wasn’t all your fault, but what happens next… that’s on _both_ of us. You need to talk to your parents.”

“They’re not,” bitterness coated his tongue, hating himself just a little bit more with each word as he turned away from her.

“Not what?” She followed him, her voice puzzled.

“Not my parents.”

“Are you _kidding me?”_ Her exasperation was palpable as she strode right up to him, fearless as she dragged him round to face her and jabbed a finger into his chest. How far she’d come from the frightened girl who had backed away from his cell all those months before, “They fucked up, I get it, honestly I do. But you look me in the eye here and now and tell me that Frigga isn’t your mom. Hey, if you don’t want her sign me the hell up, I am ready and willing to be adopted by that woman.”

Now _that_ was a disturbing thought.

“Somehow I don’t think I’d like you as a sister.” He muttered, the tension easing ever so slightly as she shook her head at him. Her finger tip a point of warmth even through the layers of leather and linen. “And you are forgetting, I cannot leave these chambers unescorted. I can hardly burst into the throne room and inform her, even if I wished too.”

“Leave that to me.”

 

—-

 

“You!” Darcy Lewis was a woman on a mission, “I’m to bring Prince Loki to the Queen immediately, prepare to escort us.”

The guard blinked, towering over her in his shiny armour as she squared up to him outside of Loki’s room.

“The prisoner is not allowed out without royal permission.” The guard rumbled.

She didn’t blink.

“Did I stutter?” Darcy Lewis was the only person alive capable of getting Jane Foster to abandon her science for food and sleep, this was a _cakewalk_ in comparison. “I’m to bring him to the Queen, immediately, unless of course _you_ wish to explain the delay to her majesty.” She turned impatiently to the door, “if you are ready my Prince, we are expected.”

The guard hesitated for a handful of heartbeats before nodding tightly and gesturing to the others. Barking out orders as they gathered their chains.

“ _My Prince_?” Loki muttered _sotto voce_ as the cuffs were attached to him.

“Don’t get used to it, buddy,” she shot back under her breath before straightening up with a sharp look at the guards. “Proceed.”

Ha. Could a goat do _that_ , Odin?

“Darcy, what is it?” Frigga was on her feet the instant they entered her sitting room, eyes widening as Darcy pulled Loki in with her and shooed the guards away. Shutting the door firmly behind them.

The elegant room was blissfully devoid of handmaidens and, thank the stars, Odin, something Darcy _probably_ should have checked before she dragged him into it but oh well. It had worked out this time. It wasn’t, however, completely empty, a familiar blonde giant rising from a seat by the fire.

“Brother,” Thor adjusted his footing uncertainly, eyes going from Darcy to Loki and back again as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, “I… I should go.”

“Hold up there big guy,” Darcy ignored the death glare being rained down on her from a foot above her head, “this probably concerns you too. Loki  here has something he needs to talk about.”

“That was not part of the arrangement,” he murmured, tense as a rock next to her as she tried to prod him further into the room, “and this was a mistake.”

“Don’t chicken out now,” she whispered back, nudging him forward, “floors yours, _my prince_.”

Loki didn’t stop glaring once as he explained, through gritted teeth, about Thanos and his ruthless quest to halve the population of the universe. The pulse in his neck jumping steadily as he spat out the story in clipped bites of information.

He didn’t, however, make any mention of the torture he’d endured, or the adverse effects of the sceptre he had wielded.

“And the rest,” she prompted him as the silence lingered, fingers wrapping around the warm leather of his sleeve. They had to know.

He _deserved_ them knowing, to have some of his good name cleared. Well, his _name_ anyway.

“I will destroy you and everything you love.” He snapped at her quietly, cold marble beneath her touch.

”Later,” she brushed it off, turning her attention to their rapt audience and sucking in a breath. “He’s failing to mention the hell Thanos put him through before this happened, and the influence the mind stone had on him.” She shuddered as she remembered the cold, clawing feeling of it echoing through him in her memories. “It was… a lot. I can’t imagine how he survived it, how _anyone_ could.”

“Is it true, Brother?” Thor rose again, mouth agape. He looked almost as horrified as Darcy felt.

“I did what I did,” Loki shot back, bitter and glaring.

“Yes but it wasn’t all you,” Darcy argued, squeezing his arm, “don’t get me wrong I’ll be the _first_ person in line to blame you for just about anything, but I _felt_ it, Loki.” She swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat, pulling away from him at last to rub at her arms, “I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to unfeel it.”

Loki looked like he was going to say something but he didn’t, she almost let herself imagine his face softened for a moment though. Almost.

“It’s as I suspected,” Frigga cut into the silence, tapping an elegantly jewelled finger to her lips.

“It is?” Loki’s gaze shot away and Darcy took a second to pull herself together. Shoving the dark memories down where they belonged for another day. They weren’t even her nightmares damnit, and as for micro analysing Loki’s expressions - that was a special kind of crazy she did _not_ have time for.

“This explains so much,” Thor replied when Frigga nodded, his hands moving descriptively as he spoke, “when the Hulk smashed you into the floor there seemed to be a change in your demeanour, I didn’t let myself believe it at first, but way he hurled you back and forth like a child’s toy must have shaken the stone’s power from you.”

“And thank _you_ for that welcome memory,” Loki muttered, tension lifting with a single sardonic sneer and leaving Darcy fighting the inappropriate urge to laugh, “Rest assured though, I have no wish for your forgiveness nor your understanding, I would have been quite content not to say a word but…”

“But I’m the brains of the operations,” Darcy finished for him, ignoring the look he sent at her. Glad it was settled at least, “Thanos wants these stones, and Loki’s head, and we know he’ll do some bad shit to get them. So there’s that.”

“Yes well, if that’s all,” Loki’s chains rattled as he seized her arm. She couldn’t keep from gasping, it was the first time he’d willingly touched her since the mind meld incident. His grip surprisingly restrained as he pulled her into his side, “we’ll be going now. Lots to do.”

She’d been expecting him to abandon her there, unless he really _did_ want to destroy her and everything she loved of course….

 _Eek_.

“Br-Loki wait!” Thor jumped after them, face in maximum puppy dog expression mode, “I… that is to say there’s to be a celebration tomorrow night, will I… will you be attending?”

“I doubt Odin wants a monster at his table.” Loki shot back, barely pausing as he pulled Darcy briskly towards the door. She had to take two steps to every one of his, stupid long legged bastard.

“Nonsense,” Frigga beat them to it, effectively halting them in their tracks as she stood between them and the exit, “besides, Darcy will need someone to escort her.”

“I will?” Darcy blurted out at the exact same moment Loki said, “She will?”

“It’s settled then,” Frigga beamed, her eyes sparkling in the firelight, “we will see you both at the feast. I will make the arrangements.”

Darcy might have been a student of manipulation, and Loki probably considered himself a master, but Frigga… Frigga truly was a _goddess_. For the first time since she’d met him Darcy knew her thoughts were perfectly in tune with Loki’s, sharing a look of horrified understanding.

They had just been set up.

 

 


	12. Prelude to a Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh okay so I know this was supposed to be a Yonvers update day, but unfortunately that chapter isn’t finished yet and this chapter is soooo... I hope you enjoy it? 💜

 

 

“You’re actually going with _Loki?”_

“You know it wasn’t my idea,” Darcy sighed, hurling dresses left and right in an explosion of colourful silks, “I haven’t even been _going_ to the dinners since you left.”

“What?” Jane glanced up from the mirror, silver hairbrush limp in her hand as she met her gaze accusingly, “Why not?”

“Oh uh…” Darcy paused, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she avoided Jane’s eyes, “I kinda, sorta, _maybe_ accidentally nearly poisoned everyone with my weirdo magic.”

“ _Darcy!”_

“What? It happens!”

“Only to you.”

“Accurate,” muttering to herself Darcy returned to her task. Exasperation radiating from her bones as she tried to find anything half decent to wear.

Okay, so _everything_ was more than half decent. It was super decent. Like _so_ much more decent than anything she could have ever afforded in a million years back on earth.

But it still wasn’t _right_.

“Uh!” She threw her hands up, forcing herself to take calming breaths as the familiar burn of magic sparked against her skin, the mark on her chest heating uncomfortably. “What the hell am I going to wear?”

“Why are you so worried? _Please_ tell me you’re not trying to impress him.”

“What? Who? No!” Darcy ignored the rush of heat to her cheeks, she was _not_ trying to impress Loki. No way. She simply didn’t want to give him anything else to sneer about, that was all. “I just don’t want any of those Asgardian dicks looking down on me. I am _not_ giving them any more ammunition, Janey, I’ma look damn good and make them _choke_ on it.”

“What about the dress Queen Frigga left for you, then?” Jane asked, resuming brushing her hair. It was in moments like this Darcy kind of wished she could hate her, a nice dress and a bit of chapstick and Jane could have modelled for vogue. All this Asgardian gear just served to make her more ethereal and willowy than ever.

But alas it was impossible, it wasn’t Jane’s fault she was a babe.

Abandoning her hunt, Darcy looked up with a dejected sigh, “What dress?”

“She said she left in your room, it should be here somewhere,” Jane peered over her shoulder, “there - the bag just behind the back on the door. Try that.”

“Ah-ha!” Darcy dove for it, ripping it open before standing back with a low whistle, “ _day-amn_ , Frigga got taste.”

It was perfectly tailored, rich emerald silk draping in delicate folds, touched here and there with gold. Simple and ornate all at once.

“It explains the colour at least,” Jane sighed, setting her brush aside entirely and swivelling around in her chair. “Pretty though.”

“Huh?” Darcy glanced up, she was in the process of twirling around with the dress in front of the big ornate mirrors. Like a grown up would.

“Well, it’s Asgardian tradition to wear the colours of your escort, Thor’s colour is red, and green…”

“Oh gee, I  _wonder_ who’s colour that could _possibly_ be.” the fabric was almost unbearably soft as she ran it through her hands, a strange feeling settling in her belly as she lowered the gown. She didn’t know how she felt about that, about wearing _his_ colours. It was too weird and medieval and _intimate._ They weren’t betrothed after all, he was just her awkward dinner date.

She didn’t even like the guy really.

Shrugging her shoulders she tried to brush it off with a laugh, “still it’s kinda backwards though dontcha think? why aren’t _they_ wearing our colours?”

“Do we have colours?” Jane smiled, lightening the mood.

“Sure we do,” Setting the dress aside completely Darcy grinned at her bestie, “you’re a sort of light lavendery-silver girl, I’m more of a sapphire.”

Jane’s laugh turned into a squeak of surprise as the dresses on the floor began to move, shifting about before a small furry face emerged. Followed shortly by a second.

“Quick question Darce, why is your room full of cats?”

“It’s hardly full,” Darcy bent to pick up Kitty Softpaws and Whisker Tom, cooing at them as she put them back in their basket, “There’s only four of them. They followed me one day so I adopted them… or they adopted me.” She shrugged, “either way they seem to like it here and I’m not gonna complain. Although Crowlando Bloom isn’t a big fan.”

“And who, _exactly_ , is Crowlando Bloom?”

Darcy waved at the open door, “The bird who lives on my balcony - hey! Why are you laughing?”

“It’s just nice that’s all,” Jane chuckled, shaking her head softly, “you can take Darcy Lewis off earth, give her magic powers and a fancy dress, but she’s still Darcy Lewis.”

“Oh Janey,” suddenly her throat was tight, eyes burning with the fact that she _definitely_ wasn’t about to cry, “that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“You’re so weird,” Jane laughed, accepting the hug that Darcy threw at her with her usual grace, “how come you love animals so much anyway? Not that they aren’t lovable, of course.” She added when Darcy’s eyes narrowed.

“What’s not to love?” She shrugged, pulling back to examine her dress again, “people are fickle beasties but animals will always be true to themselves. There was this stray dog that lived near the trailer park where I grew up, best friend a girl could ask for.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard you talk about your childhood before,” Jane’s gaze turned dangerously soft, the concern in it making Darcy want to run for the door, “or your parents.”

There was a fun packed subject.

Darcy opened her mouth to brush her off like she always did but the words stuck in her throat, Loki’s voice echoing in her head like the most ironic Jiminy Cricket of all time.

_And you, Darcy Lewis? Do you so readily share the missteps and misfortunes of your past? Does Jane Foster know?_

“It… it wasn’t the best time,” she forced herself to say, staring at anything but Jane as she tried to keep her tone light. Matter of fact, “Never knew my dad and Karen was young and stupid, definitely didn’t want kids. Heh, she wouldn’t even let me call her mom,” Darcy vividly remembered the punishments she’d get when she forgot, mom was someone old and homely and _uncool._ Someone not like Karen at all _._

Darcy couldn’t help but agree, a good mother probably never put her cigarettes out on her kid’s thigh when she got in her way.

“ _Darcy…”_

Whoops, Jane looked far too horrified. Guilt thudded in Darcy’s stomach as she rushed to brush her concerns away.

“No, it’s fine,” she waved at Jane hastily, “don’t get me wrong it wasn’t all bad, on her good days Karen could be so fun. _Ridiculously_ fun. She’d talk about all the stuff we’d do, the treats and the trips and stuff. She used to take me to this park on the river, I swear the swings there went so high, like definitely _not_ child safety high, it was great. We used to swing there for hours seeing it we could make it to the top.”

“What happened?” Jane prompted when Darcy lapsed into silence.

Suddenly she was five again, feeling the crest of the swing, the chain link creaking as she was swung inevitably back to earth. The air rushing from her lungs as gravity pulled her down again. Back to cold reality.

“Then she’d see an _old friend_ and forget about me. She was… uh... an addict.” The admission came easier than she thought it would, the stinging restrained beneath her skin as she shrugged, “I learned how to get home by myself though, to stash a key under the steps of the trailer. And I always had Lady Woofers for company.”

“What happened to her?” Jane asked as Darcy tried desperately to ignore the sympathy in her eyes, she’d never wanted sympathy. It happened. That was that. “Your mom?”

“She died.” Darcy couldn’t say more. Not now. Tonight was supposed to be fun wasn’t it? Jumping up she snatched up her dress again, forcing a grin as she turned away, “Wow, downer! Enough sob stories, let’s get ourselves fancy for this shindig.”

“Sure,” Jane smiled, the sadness slow to leave her eyes, “just… you can talk to me Darce, you know that right?”

Darcy smiled back, heart bumping in her ribs as she let herself nod, “I know. But not tonight. Tonight we feast!”

Tonight she’d forget.

 

—-

 

“I’m sure they intend to be here soon.”

“Yes.”

Loki kept his gaze fixed front and centre, fighting the urge to rub at his wrists. The restraints were smaller this time, unconnected so that he might feast and drink as any other, but they were still there. The heavy weight of magic numbing his skin as he counted the stones in front of him.

Still, this was a triumph. In a few short months he’d gone from awaiting his execution to attending a banquet and he hadn’t even had to kill anyone. _Yet_.

At this rate he’d be on the throne by the winter solstice.

“It will be a good evening, I think.”

It would be a better one if Thor would shut his mouth. His inane chatter washing over Loki as they awaited the ladies arrival in the atrium. Loki could only assume Thor’s company had been assigned to him for two reasons, the first to act as prison guard, the second as an inventive new sort of torture _._

“I hear they musicians of Lethe will be playing, and a whole bilgesnipe was roasted for the occasion. Although how they got it onto a spit I don’t know, why surely it would take the strength of Borr to accomplish such a thing.”

“Really,” Loki snapped, gaze shooting over to him at last, “ _must_ you keep talking?”

“What harm could a little conversation do?” Thor protested, shifting in his ceremonial armour. Polished up to its very highest shine. “There is time to fill is there not?”

He had not been permitted his own armour. Perhaps it would be too conspicuous, the Monster of Asgard in his full resplendence. Still, _he_ had no need for armour, his real helm and hammer had always been internal. Whereas with poor Thor there was very little underneath it.

“So - how are you finding… _Jane, Lady Darcy-_ ” Thor abandoned their conversation entirely, thank the norns. Plodding away from him with a grin as the women joined them at last, “my word, ayou both look…”

Classic Odinson, too foolish to even compliment a lady. Good thing he was… he was...

For the first time in a long time Loki’s clever tongue failed him. Mind silenced entirely as he caught sight of her.

Darcy Lewis was every inch a goddess.

Her curves were lovingly embraced in emerald silk, warm brown hair spilling over her shoulders. The gold of her jewellery glinted in the torch light, shining almost as brightly as her smile as she greeted Thor.

Something primal woke in him seeing her like this, so comfortable in his colours. Shoving Thor aside when he tried to bow over her hand he took it for himself.

He had never learned to share. One of his _many_ faults.

“Lady Darcy,” he greeted her, not sparing a glance for her companion or his brother as he bent to kiss her hand, her skin soft and warm beneath his lips, “the halls of Asgard have never seen such beauty.”

She tasted like peaches.

His efforts were rewarded with a blush and an awkward grin, “I bet you say that to all the mortals.”

He was still holding her hand, frissons of awareness settling beneath his skin where it met hers. A static warmth he wanted more of.

 _Much_ more.

He had forgotten the existence of Jane Foster and his brother entirely until he spoke, Darcy’s hand slipping from his as her attention was stolen.

“Well then, shall we join the feasting?” Thor grinned insipidly, holding out a ham-like arm for his partner, “We bought boiled Schnallfor lungs back from Vanaheim, Lady Darcy, it is quite the delicacy.”

“Don’t touch it, It’s awful,” he saw Jane Foster mouth to his companion behind her hand before adding loudly, “let’s go in then!”

It took a moment for Loki to realise it was his turn, holding out his arm to his companion as he silently reproached himself. He was not a man to be blindsided by such a fickle thing as beauty, no matter how compelling it seemed.

Tonight was about more than just feasting, it was a reconnaissance mission, he needed to assess Odin’s place in the hall so as to figure out how best to undermine him. How to free himself completely.

It was hard to remember that when she touched him, the layers of fabric may well have been tissue paper as she laid her hand upon his arm, warmth sinking deep into his skin from the touch.

“This is gonna be so awkward,” she muttered to herself, using her free hand to clutch on to her swirling skirts as he lead her towards the great hall.

“Why?” He replied, lip quirking as he leant in conspiratorially, “because you are being escorted by a known criminal?”

“Oh yeah,” she agreed, nodding shamelessly, “for sure. But it’s more the fact last time I was invited to dinner here I sort of _maybe_ accidentally tried to poison everyone.”

“Lady Darcy,” Loki said with a low reverence, “you are full of surprises.”

“Yeah well,” she smiled at him as they passed under the ancient stone archway, eyes sparking in the torch light, “hopefully the evening won’t be.”

  



	13. Tabletop Drama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s party time people - I really hope you enjoy! ;-) (and if you do comment away! I live on themmm! 😭)

 

Things were going well, _too_ well in hindsight.

She hadn’t poisoned anyone, Loki hadn’t stabbed anyone, Odin hadn’t insulted anyone. Well, yeah he had but not _majorly_ at least. And Jane - true to her word - had done an excellent job saving Darcy from the worst of the space _delicacies_ Thor kept pushing towards her.

Sure everyone had been staring at their table since the party started but hey - Darcy would have stared too. It wasn’t every day you saw no fewer than _two_ princes of Asgard, disgraced as one might be, escorting goats to the dinner table.

But hot damn they were some good looking goats, even if she did say so herself.

They were near the head of the room, Thor’s buddies from New Mexico back at last, laughing raucously around him and Jane, then her, then Loki.

 _Loki_.

She still hadn’t quite gotten over the way he’d looked at her when they’d turned up, like he’d dialled his intensity up to eleven and taken the safety off. Like he could eat her.

She swallowed another mouthful of wine, trying not to choke as she shot a glance at her _escort_ from underneath her lashes. He was _confusing,_ meeting every sneer the court sent him with an imperious twitch of his eyebrows and a courtly nod. Outwardly every inch a prince even as he murmured dry little comments to her out of the corner of his mouth, making her struggle not to laugh every time Odin addressed the room with his mimicry.

He was actually _funny,_ and super charming when he wanted to be. Okay, so many she liked him a tiny bit. Just a smidge. But she was more than willing to put that down to the  _scent_ of him alone.

Jesus wept men shouldn’t be allowed to smell like that. Like leather and forests and that really _really_ expensive cologne they sold in fancy department stores.

Not that they had department stores here, well not to her knowledge at least. Asgardian Macy’s. There was a thought.

 _“Where are they?”_ The doors boomed open, silence rippling outwards like a stone in a pond as a stranger burst in.

Darcy shot upright in her seat, nothing like an intruder to snap her out of a very bad train of thought she shouldn’t be having. She should probably thank her.

“Lady Idunn,” Frigga was on her feet in an instant, Odin’s head rearing up like a disgruntled horse as a woman strode into the hall, her white gold hair flowing like a cape behind her, “we were not expecting you.”

“You should have been,” the woman snapped back, obviously not as scared of the Royal Wrath as the rest of them, “from the moment _they_ arrived you should have been. Now tell me where they are!”

Darcy shot another glance at the man next to her, sharing a look of surprise at the unfolding drama. He hadn’t been expecting it either then.

“And we thought we were the main attraction,” she couldn’t help but mutter to her companion.

“We’ve been outshone,” he replied, head tilted close enough she could feel the silken brush of his hair, his breath warm against the shell of her ear. And _tingly_.

And… and… oh hell the stranger had whirled around on _them_. Her impossibly beautiful face furrowed with such anger it made Darcy gasp.

“ _Or not._ ”

The woman shoved the table away like it was a feather, dishes crashing to the floor as Darcy scrambled to her feet. The rest not far behind as they avoided the falling debris. Jane standing at her side.

“ _Eris,”_ the woman hissed as Darcy met eyes cold and hard as frozen amber. Her feet stuck, tongue trapped in her mouth as she was stared into with the weight of the ages.

This woman was old. And _powerful._

“No, Lady Idunn,” Frigga’s voice came from somewhere to her left, indistinct through the fog of disgust being poured into her, “the girl is not Eris!”

Calloused hands reached for her, ripping the wide gold necklace from Darcy’s collarbone and sending it clattering to the floor.

“She wears her mark.” Idunn snarled as she gestured towards the scar Darcy had worked so hard to hide, her heart stalling between her ribs at the sudden exposure, “I _knew_ Eris, she would not allow her powers to be passed on to anyone who wasn’t like her. This child is dangerous, cast her out or suffer the consequences. Better yet, end her and-”

“ _That is enough_ ,” Loki was infront of her, his hand cool against her arm as he pushed her firmly behind him, the warriors many springing to attention,  “The Lady Darcy is a guest here and under our protection, Idunn.”

Her heart restarted, a wave of static pricking against her skin as her brain caught up with reality. Idunn. As in Idunn’s apples. As in the apple she totally ate. The one that had put pop rocks in her blood and power in her fingertips.

The ones that meant she didn’t have to take this shit from _anyone_ anymore.

“Yes,” Idunn’s eyes turned even colder, flickering over them as her lips thinned into a line, “so I see. Why am I not surprised to see her with you, Deceitful One.”

“You would do well to leave now,” Loki sneered, the thrill of his words ghosting over her skin. A winter breeze against her burn as magic gathered in her veins, “before you regret it.”

Oh she could make her regret it alright. The power sparked inside her, rolling like thunder from her bones into every limb and setting her shaking as she stared down the intruder. Another god who wanted her dead for no good reason.

Who tried to decide her fate without asking.

She could - she would -

Loki’s hand tightened on her arm, thumb smoothing over the heated metal of her vambraces to circle the flesh beneath. Surprisingly gentle even as he glared Idunn down.

 _Leave it,_  he seemed to say, _I have this._

She caught her breath between her teeth, holding her position.

“Very well.” Idunn sneered, withdrawing at last from their space and turning her gaze to the royal table again. “I have seen enough, and said enough. You would do well to heed my words though, my King and Queen. The girl was made from chaos, and chaos she will be.”

If it hadn’t been for Loki she would have snapped, _shown_ her chaos. But she didn’t. She stayed, shaking in place as her magic rolled and ached in her bones.

As she proved them wrong. She was in control, not them. _She was._

“You, Odinson,” Idunn said, hard gaze turning to Thor then Jane and back, “if you dare still think to visit me after this insult, I would reconsider. Your welcome is far from assured.”

With a final sharp glance over the hall Idunn turned away, striding from the hall and leaving silence in her wake. Darcy could feel the weight of the crowd’s attention on her as the muttering broke out, a thousand needles pricking at her skin. Her mark throbbing painfully under their gaze.

“Well?” Odin’s voice rumbled over the buzzing of hushed conversation, “back to the feast!”

The Asgardian warriors cheered, returning to their feasting as Thor delicately righted the table for them. Servers rushed in, already laden down with trays to replace the lost food and wine, the world restarting with a rush.

Darcy stood there, stunned in the whirlwind of sound. She felt lost, drained, shaking as she reached for her necklace. It was cold and awkward in her hand, making her even more aware of how naked she felt without it. Her mark was out where anyone could see it, a big red stain at the base of her throat.

A flashing neon sign that said ‘ _Freak.’_

Long fingers curled over her own, stopping her as she raised the metal it to her throat. She inhaled shakily, breathing in leather and forests and that super expensive cologne.

“Leave it,” Loki murmured, taking the necklace from her, “you don’t need it anymore.”

“Don’t I?” She looked up, searching his face for answers to questions she didn’t even have words for yet. Torn between the power she’d felt and the loss afterwards, chaos and control and the fact that everyone on this goddamn planet seemed to have decided she was bad news.

“You are Darcy Lewis, are you not?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at her challenging, “student of political science and taser of gods, what reason do you have to hide?”

Damn it, he had a point.

“I suppose they _are_ already staring,” she considered, reality swimming back in as he pulled her chair out for her.

“Let them,” he tossed the necklace aside, collecting two freshly filled goblets instead as they took their seats, “more wine, my lady?”

“Definitely,” she couldn’t keep from smiling just a little as she plucked one from his hand and gulped down half its contents. Wine solved everything.

“A toast,” he raised his goblet to her, “to the undisputed _main attraction_.”

She choked. Spluttering out a surprised laugh as she shook her head.

“You are such an asshole,” she snorted, clanking her cup against him, “cheers!”

 

—-

 

Loki didn’t get drunk.

He was in control, always, sharp eyed and ready whilst the fools around him rolled in their cups. Poised to exploit every weakness, seize every opportunity, seize every exploit and… wait, what was he thinking?

“Drink!” The young goddess beside him cheered, wine sloshing over the table as she poured them another round, “I gotta say this Asgardian stuff is _lush!_ Never noticed before. Do you guys have vodka here? I make the _best_ martinis, seriously, like - the best.”

“ _You_ want to make _me_ a martini?” He asked, bemused as he clinked his goblet against hers for the millionth time.

The world had righted itself after their less than pleasant visitor, the unexpected rush of rage he’d felt mellowing with wine and good company. When Idunn had turned on Darcy… he wasn’t sure what had come over him. He told himself it was because she was his responsibility now, and that of course because a little gallantry never hurt when forging a new alliance. But he couldn’t shake the feeling there was something more there, something he wasn’t seeing.

“Sure I wanna make you a martini!” she cut into his thoughts, lips stained with wine as she beamed at him. Everything else fading away, “Jane won’t lemme make them anymore, she doesn’t understand the- the mixological sciences! Brain sciences? Sure, she’s the boss, booze science? No way, I’m the doctor!”

“We do not have this Vodka, Lady Darcy,” Thor boomed, definitely drunk as he flopped towards their side of the table, “but we have Narfal! A fine spirit, Loki’s favourite in fact!”

His eyebrows shot up at the unwelcome, and highly inaccurate, interruption, “It is not my favourite.”

“It is!” Thor insisted, nodding his head enthusiastically, “remember? When we freed the Westerlands on Niflheim, you drank a cask of it after!”

“I had two glasses, and if I remember correctly it was because _you_ had already finished off the wine and ale!”

“It was more than two,” Thor grinned, slamming a meaty hand onto the table and setting the plates rattling, “You should have seen him Lady Darcy, he was dancing on the table tops by sunrise!”

“Wait, really?” Darcy whirled on him, blue eyes wide and sparkling.

“Indeed!” Thor chuckled, “such rhythm!”

“Princes of Asgard do _not_ dance on tables,” Loki contested, blood pooling hotly in his cheeks as he glared at Thor. Willing him into silence as his hands itched for his magic again, “Besides, I _vividly_ recall the winter solstice you interrupted the solemn rites with your colourful rendition of a Vanar Jig.”

“And what a jig it was- _Band!”_ His voice rose to a roar, “play us something lively! Jane my beloved, dance with me!”

He watched Thor whirl off with his paramour, so obviously besotted with each other it was almost obnoxious.  He didn’t have time to dwell on the twisting feeling in his stomach at the thought before someone else decided to interrupt.

“Will you not join me for a dance, Lady Darcy?” The voice set Loki’s teeth on edge, he had always found Fandral a hairsbreadth more bearable than most of Thor’s acolytes. Until now. “It would be a shame to miss out on the fun, would it not?”

Loki’s fingers flexed, something possessive clenching in his chest as he squared up to the interloper. He had not rescued her from Idunn to hand her over to this fool.

“She is already engaged for this dance,” he snapped, placing his hand over hers in a very clear display, “and every other.”

Darcy cocked her head at him, eyebrow lifting as Fandral shrugged and bowed out. It was good to see he had _some_ sense left in him.

“Oh am I now?” She asked, cheek twitching with the threat of a smile as she let him help her to her feet.

“It would seem so, my lady,” he sighed theatrically, placing her arm through his “nothing for it now really.”

“No.”

He would never admit how his heart stumbled at the word, rejection rushing in.  An old and bitter friend. His every failure and foible rose to the surface of his mind, his monstrous bloodline, his weaknesses. Of course she would reject him, how could she not when the world had done the same?

“Not unless you pay the price.”

“Price?” He repeated warily, his equilibrium on a see-saw as she smiled at him. Coldness rising and falling at the uncertainty.

She nodded, leaning closer still. She had to stretch up on her tiptoes to try and reach his ear, her hands balanced precariously on his shoulder, “a very heavy price.”

He swallowed convulsively, fire licking at him every place they touched. Warm silk and skin melting into him, making him forget everything else as she tilted her head knowingly at him. This close he was breathing her, the scent of peaches and honey clouding his mind.

“And what, my lady,” he heard himself ask, voice dropping without his permission as he braced a hand against her spine, “might that price be?”

“An honest answer,” she replied in a murmur, her fingers toying with his collar absently, “Did you _really_ dance on a table?”

“I did not,” he couldn’t help but tilt towards her, caught in her gravity as he said with absolute solemnity, “it was a bench.”

She blinked at him for two whole seconds before she started laughing, rich and deep and _real_ as it washed through him. Felt and heard at the same time as she clutched onto him to keep herself steady.

Perhaps it was the wine talking but in that moment Loki thought that Darcy Lewis might just be more addictive than any liquor.

And far more intoxicating besides.

  



	14. Thanks for the Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omfg I can’t believe people are still here reading this, you guys are blowing my mind with your kindness and making it impossible for me to stop writing! 😍 Every comment is a gift I will never be able to thank you enough for! 
> 
> Special thanks as always to RogueSareth for her super kind betaing, and to the incomparable DenseHumboldt for holding my hand and helping me write chapter 20! (I know we’re not gonna be there for a while but damn was it killing me!) you saved me from several break downs and I am eternally grateful!

 

Goddesses shouldn’t get hangovers. That wasn’t in the contract.

Darcy flumped her head into the pillow with a groan, body aching as she replayed the fuzzy memories of the night before.

The banquet, the _wine_ , the new name on the ‘Let’s kill Darcy Lewis for shits and giggles’ list, _Loki_.

Oh god, Loki.

She groaned again, burying her face deeper into the soft fabric of her bed.

The feasting had gone on for hours, through drinking games and bets and bad ideas, and dancing. So much dancing. Her head was still spinning with it, flushing with the memory of his hands against her skin as they’d spun around the dance floor again and again. Badly, yes, but it had been wonderful nevertheless.

He’d kissed her hand, she remembered that, the first blush of daylight bathing his features in gold as he’d bowed outside her door. A smile she couldn’t quite figure out playing on his features as the guards had come to take him away.

Cinderella with a body count.

She was still thinking about it when the door opened, Jane bustling in with a spring in her step and a smile on her face.

“Up and at ‘em, Darce! It’s a beautiful day.”

“Noooo,” Darcy protested weakly, trying to hibernate deeper into the bed as Jane flung open the drapes, “s’still nighttime g‘way.”

“It’s four in the afternoon, get your butt up!” Someone had obviously gotten a good swing of Thor’s hammer last night, there was no other explanation for such relentless cheerfulness. “I brought you water and the Asgardian alternative to aspirin. It’s amazing.”

“Everything is forgiven,” hauling herself upright, Darcy blearily accepted the cup and the little potion bottle. Glugging it’s bittersweet contents down in one mouthful before she flopped back against the headboard.

“You’re welcome,” Jane smiled, eyes crinkling as she dropped down on the other end of the bed, legs tucked up underneath her, “how’re you feeling now?”

“Better,” Darcy nodded as her head cleared, everything coming into crystal clear focus in a way she really wished it hadn’t. “But uh… Jane, I think…. I think I have a problem.”

“It’s called a hangover, and honestly after that fifteenth shot of _whatever_ I’m not surprised. Just because you’re extra-mortal now does not make you indestructible.”

“Not that,” Darcy waved it away, okay so it was a _bit_ that but mostly something so much worse, “it’s about Loki.”

“Still morally dubious if admittedly better behaved Loki?”

Darcy nodded, “That’s the one.”

Jane’s eyes went cold scary fast, “What did he do?”

“No!” Darcy shook her head vehemently at the uncharacteristically stabby look on Jane’s face, “he hasn’t done anything, well not recently anyway. It’s not about that.”

Jane frowned, “then what is it?”

Why had no one bothered to teach her a spell to keep from blushing? What kind of useless lessons had she had? Exhaling hard she rubbed a hand over her burning face, looking anywhere but at Jane.

“It’s just…” _deep breath Darcy, you can do this. You can talk to someone about your feelings and not explode,_ “he’s hot.”

“I’m sorry… what?”

“Loki.” Darcy repeated, wishing the bed would do a _Nightmare on Elm Street_ and swallow her whole, “Morally dubious walking disaster Loki. Is hot. Really hot. Like _dangerously_ attractive.”

“What are you telling me?” Jane asked, voice rising in pitch as her eyes widened, “You have a _crush_ on _Loki_?”

“I… _maybe_?” Darcy squeaked, throwing her hands up, “I don’t know!”

“He tried to kill us.”

“I know.” Although he _had_ just discovered his life was a lie.

“And Thor.”

“I know.” Which was an overreaction but still, all that parent stuff had to mess you up.

“And overthrow _several_ planets!”

“I said it was a problem didn’t I?” Darcy shrugged helplessly, “I just… I don’t know, he’s been helping me a lot with my powers and everything. Don’t get me wrong Frigga’s amazing but Loki… I dunno, he’s changed things. And there was last night with Idunn and the dancing…”

“Darcy this is a really bad idea,” Jane said, worry creasing her brow as she reached to take Darcy’s hand between her own. Squeezing it tightly, “I know he’s been through some things, and that he was on his best behaviour last night. And I appreciate the fact he’s been helping you, really I do, but he can’t be trusted. You know that. _Everyone_ knows that.”

“I do,” Darcy sighed, shoulders slumping at the stupid amount of sense Jane was making, they didn’t call him the god of lies for nothing, huh?  “Logic, right?”

“Logic.” Jane confirmed, “just focus on your lessons okay? On keeping control. That’s the important thing.”

It was, Darcy knew that, but she also knew logic wasn’t everything. She trusted her gut, and her gut (aside from complaining virulently about the amount of space alcohol she’d drunk) told her there was more to this thing with Loki then she knew yet.

And that she owed him a _serious_ thank you.

 

—-

 

“I uh… I didn’t get a chance to thank you. Before. So… thank you.”

Loki looked up at the words, he’d been scouring Sareth’s ‘ _Strange Magickes’_ for inspiration. The longer he worked with Darcy the more differences he found in their magic; sharp edges where his was smooth, tangents and curls where he hadn’t been expecting them.

It was a different fish, one he wasn’t entirely sure would react appropriately to any given spell.

Plus reading meant he didn’t have to look directly at her, cutting down the risk of him remembering how much of a fool he’d made of himself at the feast. Or quite how much he’d enjoyed it.

He hadn’t cared about the sneers or snubs from the other nobles, their glares were background noise. Let them fear him, it was better than underestimating him, and let them stare too. What did it matter when he had wine on his tongue and her smiling back at him?

He had almost felt happy. _Normal_.

Loki cleared his throat, marking his page and looking sideways at his student at last, “thank me for what?”

The mid-afternoon light washed over her, highlighting the pink in her cheeks as she worked on her spells. She’d pulled an oversized cushion into the middle of the floor, sitting cross legged on it as she practiced the first steps of pocket dimension creation and retrieval.

“For stepping in at the feast,” she shrugged, letting the golden sparks die between her hands as she lowered them and met his gaze at last, “when the mad apple woman showed up, and uh, afterwards. I… I appreciate it.”

“Oh,” He nodded, something warm and unfamiliar unfurling in his chest “Of course.”

He hadn’t been expecting her gratitude. It was welcome he supposed, and duly given, he _had_ defended her after all. But that was his duty now. She was an extension of his teachings, his name, a valued asset that it was in his interest to protect.

That was all.

“Guess that’s one more person who wants me dead though,” Darcy fell backwards on the cushion, lesson forgotten as she stared up at the arched ceiling high above, “I better start keeping a list.”

“Who else is on it?” Abandoning his book completely he turned in his seat, leaning forward so he could look at her properly. It was the polite thing to do.

“Let’s see, so Idunn, Odin,” she ticked the names off on her fingers, “pretty much half of Asgard. I’m sure you wouldn’t have thought twice about it back on Earth.”

“That was before I knew you,” he waved the comment away, earning an eye roll and a smile in return, “and Odin is an old fool.”

“Thanks,” she quirked an eyebrow at him, hair spilling over the flagstones as she looked up at him.

“Wait a thousand years,” he chuckled, bracing his hands against his thighs, “and see how many enemies you have then.”

“Oh shit, yeah,” she rolled over, propping her chin up on her hand, “I keep forgetting I’m gonna live for, like, basically ever. _So_ depressing.”

“Why? He asked, unable to understand what could possibly be bad about living longer. Being able to see and do and _feel_ so much more than the rest of her fragile kind ever would.

“All that time, everyone you love dying…” her eyes drifted away, distant as she looked into a future he couldn’t see, “it just sounds so lonely.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

He wanted to snatch back the words as soon as he said them, cringing internally at the mawkish sentiment. Not sure why he’d said it, or what it even meant. Or why the thought of her sadness made him so uncomfortable.

“Why Loki,” she faked a gasp, the melancholy fading away into a mischievous grin, “I never knew you cared.”

“Yes well, if you don’t return to your practise it will all be meaningless,” he sighed, picking up his book again and retreating into an air of indifference, “you’ll kill yourself long before it comes to that.”

“That’s more like it,” she hauled herself into a sitting position again, feet tucked neatly underneath her as she resumed her former work. “So, do you still wanna take over the world then? Or _a_ world, doesn’t have to be specific.”

“It’s my birthright,” he replied automatically, licking his finger and turning the page. “I was raised to be a King.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, sparks dancing between her fingertips as she sketched a rune in the air, “I don’t believe in birthrights,”

“Why ever not?” He glanced up from his page, the words unable to hold more than a fraction of his interest with her so close. He’d read the same sentence three times so far.

She hitched a shoulder, eyes focused on her spell even as her voice drifted beyond it, “you’ve seen my memories. The only thing my birth mother wanted me to be was gone.”

Ah yes. _Those_ memories. They unfolded at her words, filtering up from where he’d carefully stored them away. The distant figure, the sharp scent of intoxication, the burn of a slap. A burn.

The _loneliness_.

Then again were his _birth_ parents any different? Was the fact his father was a king enough to make up for what they’d done to him?

“Yes well,” he murmured, the thought sticking in his skull, “at least she never abandoned you in a frozen tundra to die.”

“Didn’t she?” Her eyes lifted, a depth behind them he hadn’t been expecting. An _understanding_ , “Maybe it didn’t get as cold on earth in the winter, but being a kid alone in the dark is never easy.”

The words caught him between the ribs, soft and aching as he looked back at her. She seemed so _calm,_ one emotion he could never share.

“I don’t understand,” his brow furrowed, “do you not wish to seek revenge for it? You would have every right to do so.”

Her memories were a bitter stain, dark as any night on Jötunheim, one he would be pleased to help her erase. Her new powers would make it ever so easy, especially with his help. He had a unique appreciation for revenge after all.

Darcy considered him for a long moment, seeming to see far more than she should before she shook her head, snapping back into herself again.

”No, I don’t... I...” she seemed caught in the words, shaking her head slightly with a fathomless look, “well, I survived it, I thrived even. Afterwards at least. That’s more than can be said for them.”

“Where are they now?” He couldn’t help but ask, wondering at her even now. How she could shift from mood to mood so easily, how she could be so accepting of what had happened to her.

If it had been him he would have razed the ground they stood on, burnt them to ashes then salted the earth so nothing could grow there again.

“Dead. Well, Karen is. I’ve never actually visited Jack Lewis’s grave. Karen didn’t like to talk about him. It was a whole married at sixteen divorced by seventeen type deal.”

Loki opened his mouth, uncertainty clouding his tongue. He wanted to say something, something _meaningful,_  something he didn’t have the words for yet. He was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. A guard stepping in, his face unreadable as he bowed his head sharply.

He wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or not for the intrusion.

“Excuse me, your highness,” the words were said warily, with just the right amount of contempt to make the title teeter on the edge of an insult, “there is a visitor for the Lady Darcy Lewis.”

“For me?” Her eyebrows shot up, sending him a quick worried glance before she addressed the guard, “but I don’t even know anyone here. Wait… it’s not Idunn again is it?”

Loki’s hands clenched, if Idunn thought to threaten Darcy again she had another thing coming.

“No, milady,” the guard seemed almost uncomfortable, Loki’s gaze narrowing as the man shifted ever so slightly on his feet, “she says her name is Nyx Nightsdottir, she is awaiting you in the blue parlour.”

Loki froze. It was impossible, she would be over ten thousand years old by now. No Asgardian had come close to living that long in an eon, even Idunn, with all her apples, was only eight thousand.

“Loki?” Darcy was looking back at him, her forehead creased with a questioning frown, “do you know who that is?”

“Only by reputation,” he said warily, eyes flicking from her to the guard and back again, “she is the mother of Eris.”

Silence echoed through the chamber, the first time since he’d met her that she seemed truly lost for words.

“Well, shit.”

“Quite.” He agreed wholeheartedly, rising from the sofa as she started climbing to her feet. He couldn’t help but reach for her, helping her stand and escorting her to the door. Lowering his voice he added, “Be careful, Lady Darcy.”

“I will,” she nodded, the muscles of her throat working as she swallowed, “wish me luck.”

He did. Wishing he could break his chains and accompany her instead, his isolation was growing more tiresome by the second. He would have to increase the expediency of his plans if this continued.

He was not bred for captivity.

 

—-

 

Darcy didn’t realise Asgardians got old, at least not like… _old_ old.

Everyone in the palace seemed frozen perpetually in some ageless state, even Odin with his grey hair and scarred-in frown lines had a vitality about him. A shitty attitude, sure, but a vitality nonetheless.

This woman was different. She was straight up _ancient._ Her shoulders hunched forward, barely five feet tall with skin as brown and wrinkled as a walnut.

If she had been human Darcy would have placed her at well over a hundred.

“Lady Darcy,” she rose on her cane, reaching out with knotted hands as Darcy edged uncertainly into the room, “it is good to meet you at last.”

“Uh… you too, Lady Nyx, right?” She looked into her face, Nyx’s deep set eyes bright as embers as she shook her hand with a deceptively strong grip.

This was not a woman to be fucked with, no matter how old she looked.

“Yes, now shall we sit down, dear?” Her mouth split open in an easy yellow smile and Darcy found herself smiling back, “standing is a young man’s game.”

“Should I uh... call for tea or something?” Darcy asked, momentarily transforming into a fancy old British Lady as she sank into the plush cushions of the sofa.

“Do not worry yourself, child, it is you I’ve come to see.” She leant forward, peering at Darcy like she could see all her secrets, “I came as soon as I heard the apple had been claimed at last, my Eris would be so pleased.”

“Would she?” Darcy blurted out, “I mean, no offence, but... I’m nothing special.”

She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time with the right messed up brain chemistry. At least according to what she could make out from Jane’s science ramblings.

“My daughter would have said the same thing,” Nyx smiled again, the physical embodiment of _wizened_ as she shook her head,  “and both of you would be wrong. The power could not go to anyone who was less than worthy. Now, child, you have questions for me. I will hear them.”

Oh. Right. Shit. Darcy sat up straighter, mind spiralling over the dozens of questions that had plagued her since this whole thing started. Why me, why now, all the usual cries for help.

Instead she heard herself ask, “what was she like?”

That’s what she _really_ wanted to know, wasn’t it?

Everything she’d heard, everything she’d _read,_ made Eris out to be a criminal. A menace. This infamous sorceress feared by all who laid eyes on upon her.

And now Darcy was too, by proxy at least.

Nyx’s eyes crinkled at the corner, coal black and just as warm, “you’ve heard some stories I’m sure, ones that say she was hungry for power or fame or destruction, but she wasn’t. My daughter… she was a free spirit, mischievous yes, and a little wild, but always quick to laugh.”

“Why does everything say she was bad then? _Why_ is that her legacy?”

 _My legacy_ added silently, suddenly desperate for answers now she had an actual real life source in front of her. For something that might finally balance the scales that had been teetering in her chest for months now.

“The aesir have a rigid society, Lady Darcy, one that was even worse back then. Eris never fitted their mould. They did not understand her, and people always fear what they don't understand.”

“They fear me too,” she swallowed around the lump in her throat, fingers running over the ridges of her mark. She’d stopped trying to hide it anymore, for better or worse it was a part of her and the rest of the world would just have to get used to it, “because of this.”

“I hoped that was a scar you wouldn’t have to bear,” Nyx sighed, eons rushing out of her as she exhaled, “it was one my daughter never should have either.”

“What is it? What does it mean?”

“It happened when my daughter was still a young woman, her powers had just truly began to flourish and word spread, as it always does. Many great men tried to court her, King Bor himself was intent on making her his consort, he was a warrior king and she would have been a powerful weapon by his side.” Nyx shook her head, “but that was never my daughters way. She didn’t seek war, nor did she wish to be beholden to anyone or any thing who did. The mark was her punishment, Borr branded her thinking it might diminish the interests of others. You wear the smallest fraction of her scars.”

“That’s…” _so incredibly fucked up,_ “hideous.”

Darcy shuddered, fingers tracing over the scar as she tried to imagine it. If Eris _had_ done some bad stuff afterwards then who could blame her, Odin’s father sounded even worse than he was.

“It _was_ hideous,” Nyx nodded, “and I have carried the weight of not being able to protect her from it ever since. But even Bor could not keep her from thriving. She took to wearing her scars as a badge of honour, Lady Darcy, a sign that she was different, and happily so. She played by no ones rules but her own, a motto she lived by for the rest of her days.”

What was it she’d said to Loki before she left? That she’d _thrived_ without her parents, that it was the best revenge you could get.

Maybe Eris was a goddess after her own heart after all.

“And Idunn?” Darcy heard herself ask, fingers twisting awkwardly in her lap, “why does she hate Eris so much?”

Nyx’s gaze softened, a heavy exhale echoing out of her as she lifted a hand to brush back her white hair.

“I could say it was the theft of one of her apples,” Nyx sighed, “but it was more than that, _they_ were more than that.”

“They were _together_?” Well, that was… unexpected. Darcy tried not to gape, snapping her slack jaw shut.

“It was doomed from the start. Eris’s nature meant she could never stay in one place for too long, and Idunn’s meant she’d never leave her orchard.” Sadness lilted her words, an aching sorrow that time seemed to have done nothing to dim, “When things were getting bad towards the end Idunn begged her to stay, to hide in the orchard. She was convinced no one would dare come there but Eris couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t risk Idunn’s life. She left in the night, taking one Idunn’s apples with her. It broke Idunn’s heart, she never forgave her for that betrayal. Or for dying I think.”

“Oh,” Heat pricked behind Darcy’s eyes, the story sitting heavily on her shoulders. To die trying to protect someone you loved only for them to think you betrayed them. It was _tragic._

What was even more tragic was the fact one doomed love affair was threatening another. Sure Idunn had reasons for hating _her,_ but Jane and Thor? They didn’t deserve her vitriol, and if they ever _did_ decide that Jane wanted an apple, which Darcy was biasedly hopeful for, she swore she’d be first in line to join the raiding party.

“Now you want to ask about you,” Nyx sighed again with a wan smile, the tension easing as she swept the sadness  away with her hand, “why you were chosen?”

Darcy cleared her throat awkwardly, struggling to get back in the moment, “It’s crossed my mind. Yup.”

“What did it say on that apple you ate, Lady Darcy?”

Frowning Darcy tried to remember her legends, “to the fairest?”

Blessed with a healthy self esteem as she was, even Darcy doubted she was the most beautiful woman on Earth, not in a world where Beyoncé existed. Not to mention that Asgard was a whole freaking planet of Beyoncé’s.

“That’s right. To the _fairest_ . Not the most beautiful, the strongest, the smartest, or most cunning, but the _fairest._ It recognised a fair soul in you Lady Darcy, a balance between light and dark that is unswayed by the agendas of others. That is why her power chose you over all else, because you know your own mind.”

“I don’t know about that,” Darcy swallowed tightly, face flushing, “I seem to have lost it completely these days.”

Wasn’t that the damned truth. She’d been on a tiltawhirl since this had all begun, unsure how she felt about everything from her powers to her hosts, herself, Loki...

“Have faith,” the old woman patted the back of her hand kindly, “it’s right where you left it. Now here, before she died my Eris saw a seer, one who told her that the heir to her power would need this.” She produced a necklace from her shawl, a strange glass oval set in heavy silver filigree, “so I have come to deliver it. Take it dear.”

“Um, thanks,” Darcy had little choice but to accept as it was pressed into her hands, the pendant heavy and warm and buzzing ever so slightly against her skin. Like magic, “What… uh... what is it?”

There was a tiny chip of stone in it, amber maybe. It was so small she could barely make it out in the centre. A grain of sand in the palm sized pendant.

“That, my dear, is a splinter of the _hirða gimsteinn,_ keep it safe. Keep it hidden, and whatever you do don’t open it until you need to.”

Well that cleared that up, besides, what did she mean _open_ it?

Darcy looked again, noticing the silver hinges hidden at the edge of the design and fighting the immediate urge to open it. If the ancient space lady said not to, she’d listen. This time at least.

Slipping the locket inside her tunic Darcy frowned, “How will I know?”

“Trust me, sweet girl, you will know.” Nyx  nodded, heavy lines bracketing her smile as she added, “and remember this if nothing else, chaos is not a curse. Chaos is  _creation.”_

The words stayed with her long after she’d left, as warm and heavy as the chain hidden around her neck.

 


	15. A Very Important Lesson on Timing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey gang! 😊 I can’t believe there are people still here reading and commenting - you are everything! Thank you so much for your continued support 💜

 

 

It was ridiculous that the room should feel warmer just because she was in it.

He tried to blame it on his lack of company, studiously ignoring the fact he’d never shied away from solitude before. The bonds must have been taking their toll on him, the blunting of his magic and his impatience to be free, it wore on him. That was all.

That was only the reason Loki was so disconcertingly pleased every time one of their sessions rolled around. He certainly wasn’t craving Darcy Lewis’s company like a drug. How ridiculous.

“I never did ask, what did the old witch want?”

She looked up as he spoke, her nose buried in the book he’d handed her ten minutes before. It was her longest period of silence so far he reckoned, finding the lack of her chatter strangely distracting.

“Huh? Oh, Nyx. I don’t know really, we mostly just talked about Eris.”

Her fingers unconsciously traced over the ridges of her mark, dipping lazily over each swirl and line.

He cleared his throat, pulse loud in his ears as he made himself ask, “Anything enlightening?”

“Not really, well actually maybe, she said something,” she traced the curl over her left collarbone, across to her right, down. Fingers dipping towards the slope of her breast. He was hypnotised, “she said, chaos isn’t a curse, it’s creation.”

He forced his eyes away, swallowing tightly as he made a show of examining the bookshelf opposite.

“Yes, well,” he nodded, “she’s not wrong.”

Chaos was the mother of creation, destroying the old to make way for the new. Chaos forced people to _think_ , to change. It couldn’t be bound by the laws of men and stars, only shaped by them.

 _Damn_.

He turned back on himself, reaching forward and snapping the spell book he’d given her out of her hand and tossing it away.

“Hey! I was reading that - you told me to study the-”

“I was wrong,” he rolled his eyes as her outrage became a slow spreading grin, “Yes savour the moment, it’s a once in a lifetime occurrence I assure you. These spells are not for you.”

Her smugness was palpable, the cat who got the canary as she leant forward on the couch, eyes sparkling as she looked up at him.

“So what spells _are_ for me?”

This girl was dangerous and he would do well to remember it.

“Everyone’s magic is different,” he forced himself to be the scholar, even as her teasing smile drew him in like a moth to a flame, “but yours is… _very_ different. No spells for you. Your magic is _chaos_ magic, so we will engage directly _with_ that chaos.”

“Okay…” she pursed her lips, fixing him with a shrewd look, “how?”

Circling closer he felt himself smile, “what do you want to learn?”

She considered him, eyes darting down to track over his form in a way that made him incredibly aware of himself, “object transformation in relation to sartorial elegance, I wanna be _fancy.”_

“The dressmakers of Asgard do not impress you, my lady?” He asked, lifting an eyebrow at her as she rose to her feet.

“They do just fine,” she smirked, pulling at her tunic critically, “but a girl likes to be in control of her own choices. _Especially_ when it comes to clothing.”

He laughed despite himself, shaking his head as he led her into the open space behind her sofa. Internally he couldn’t help but think how well Asgardian fashion suited her, the elegant drapes and soft spun-silks accentuating the curves her Midgardian wear so often hid. It should be a crime to cover something so lovely.

But that was hardly the point.

“Very well then,” he took his position, trying to clear his mind of intrusions as she stood before him. He swore it used to be easier, “illusionary modifications are simpler but I think you can stand the challenge. Broken down to its simplest form basic transformations, like all spells,  require three steps; picturing it, wanting it, and _doing_ it.”

“You make it sound so easy,” she teased, “all these books have been lying to me. No runes or control words or gestures?”

“No, but it’s not enough just to picture the _idea_ of it, you must _feel_ it. The textures, the details, summon up the change on all levels - not just visual. Observe.”

Somethings were too tempting to resist. Narrowing his eyes he considered her for a long second before releasing the spell. The Lady Darcy clad once more in her banquet dress, green silk and gold.

He remembered it perfectly, it had featured in far too many of his dreams since that night. And so had she.

“Woah! Way too personal,” she protested even as her face broke into a grin, hands pooling in the silk of her skirt as she twirled on the spot, “but _hella_ cool!”

“Your turn.”

“Alright alright,” she wiggled her fingers, repeating to herself, “Picture, want, do. Picture, want, do.”

 

—-

 

Darcy Lewis had an idea.

A hilarious, beautiful, probably inadvisable if _totally_ fair idea.

Sucking in a breath she felt for her magic, letting it dance around her. No fighting, no fussing, not anymore.  She had the power and she was damn well gonna use it, no matter what anyone else thought about it.

 _Picture it._ She drew the image up in her mind, the weight of the denim, the softness of the jersey. _Want it._ This is what she wanted, what she accepted as reality. _Do it._

The magic sparked from her fingertips, a joyful swish that made her laugh out loud.

Her clothes however remained unchanged.

“A good try,” Loki hedged, chin tilting thoughtfully, “maybe…”

She shoved a hand over her mouth to keep the laughter in. Snorting inelegantly as Loki noticed the true effect of her spell, lips thinning as he glanced down at himself at last.

“Very clever.” His eyebrows rose, mouth twitching as he regarded his reflection in the mirror. She didn’t want to admit it but he looked damn good in ol’ fashioned earthly jeans and a sweater and, best of all, one of her beanies perched on all that silky black hair.

Hipstery but yeah… _good._

She was still staring when he cast next, the hand covering her mouth suddenly wrapped in black leather, arms weighed down by heavy gauntlets. Armour. She was wearing armour, gold dipping into her eyes from her helmet.

Her very pointy helmet.

“You did _not_.”

From there it descended into all out war.

Spells hurtled back and forth across the room, bright flashes of gold and green as they struggled for victory. He was faster at casting but she seemed to be able to throw a wider net. She shrieked, ducking behind the couch as he threw another spell at her, hurling back a chicken suit at him as she tried to keep her focus and footing at the same time. Something not helped by the fact she could barely breathe she was laughing so much.

It was _fun._ Stupidly fun, her head light as she tried to shove him into Thor’s armour. Loki was less than amused, returning the shot with the _least_ practical battle swimsuit of all time. Anything after that was fair game.

By the time they’d run low on ideas she was laughing too hard to cast properly, tripping on the hem of the massive frilly monstrosity of a dress she’d been hit with and tumbling to the floor.

“Are you alright?” Loki’s voice cut into her giggles, towering over her as he offered her his hand. His face tensed as if he was actually worried about her.

She swallowed, nodding as solemnly as she could as she reached for him. Making sure she had a firm grip on the cool skin of his palm before yanking him off balance. If she was going down, they _both_ were.

“I am now,” she grinned, turning to try and glare at him even as she fought for breath. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like this. It felt _amazing._

“Cheat,” he chuckled, propping himself up on his elbow to better look at her. Still unbearably elegant even sprawled out on the floor beside her.

“All’s fair in love and war,” she quoted, momentarily hypnotised by the light in his eyes. If he was hot when he was brooding he was damn near _burning_ when he was happy. His easy grin making her chest hitch as she realised just how close they were.

“Yes well,” he reached toward her, brushing a lock of hair from face and making her heart roll over like a trained dog, “perhaps we’ll make a warrior of you yet.”

“Eh, I’m more of a lover.” She said breathlessly, not realising _just_ how insinuate-y the words were until they were out.

“Really?”

She barely heard him speak, brain disengaging entirely at having him so close. He filled her vision, her head. Heat flushed through her, pooling low in her belly as she drank him in from up close. Inky hair, bright green eyes, sharp features and parted lips. She wondered if he tasted as good as he smelt.

She wet her lips instinctively, heart squeezing as his gaze followed her tongue.Ax

He was going to kiss her.

Loki, Prince of Asgard and God of Mischief, was going to kiss her.

And she was going to let him.

_Bam! Bam! Bam!_

Someone thundered at the door, the sound so loud it knocked what little sense she had left right out of her. Dazed and confused she barely noticed Loki disappearing from her side only to reappear a second later to help her up. Her skin sparked against his as he drew her to her feet.

At least she was standing when the guards burst in this time, and somehow back in her own clothes again. She could feel the blood burning beneath her skin, face hotter than the sun as they entered the room. He’d been going to kiss her. She’d _wanted_ him to kiss her. They been going to...

“To what do we owe the pleasure this time,” Loki’s voice snapped her back to the moment, almost unrecognisable now with his cold expression and colder eyes, “I do have lessons to teach, you know.”

Ha. _Lessons._  That’s what he called it.

“You have been summoned before the Allfather, immediately.” The head of the guard was already approaching Loki, manacles in hand. Then he turned to her, “both of you have.”

Well that cleared her head right up, nothing like a good summoning to kill the mood. Falling into step on autopilot she tried desperately to figure out _why._ If she hadn’t done anything, and she was pretty sure she hadn’t, then…

Shooting a worried look at Loki she whispered, “What did you do?”

“Why do you assume it was me?” He countered, his still mask finally falling away to reveal an almost comically indignant expression. She just looked at him. “Yes alright,” he sighed, “normally I have some stake in the matter. This time however? I am at a loss.”

“Maybe he’s decided to kill us both off at once,” Darcy tried to joke, the words falling flat even to herself, “save himself some time.”

His expression changed like quicksilver, so intense she forgot how to breathe as he stared right into her, “I would never let that happen.”

She barely had time to register the words, never mind deal with the way they made her insides squeeze like an orange in a juicer, before they were at the War Room.

The _freaking_ War Room.

Which was not an ominous sign at all.

The door was gigantic, a solid panel of heavy, dark wood so tall it was almost lost in the rafters. It creaked open slowly as they approached, golden light spilling out to greet them like a wave. Odin awaited, backlit by the glow and even more terrifying than usual because of it, hunched over in a chair that may as well have been a throne.

If it wasn’t for Thor, Jane and Frigga sitting awkwardly around the table inside Darcy might well have legged it then and there. She figured their presence cut down the likeliness of her imminent execution by a good fifty percent at least.

“You have arrived.” Odin nodded once to the guards, the troops vanishing back through the impossibly tall door in their clanking armour and leaving her and Loki to face the music.

Darcy shot a helpless look to Jane who only shrugged ever so slightly, the same wide eyed look on her own face.

“So, uh… what’s going on?” She forced herself to say in the lingering awkwardness, gaze darting over the assembled faces to meet Odin’s one sharp eye, “ _your majesties_.”

“Frigga has told me of your trials, Loki,” the eye passed her, ignoring her completely as Odin turned to his youngest son, “and I have called you here to discuss it.”

Loki was silent, tension threatening to choke them all even as he stood as if entirely unaffected by it. Although, this close, she swore she could see the faintest twitch of a muscle in his jaw.

The silence crushed in, reminding her vividly that she shouldn’t be here. This was a place for god’s and geniuses, she should never have made the invite list. All she’d done was twist Loki’s arm until he told someone what had happened to him.

Darcy was opening her mouth to say as much when Loki grasped her wrist in a swift, smooth motion.  

“Your seat, Lady Darcy,” he said, ignoring Odin completely as he pulled out a chair for her, giving her no choice but to sit.

“I thought it best we discuss this matter together,” Frigga cut in delicately, forcing Darcy to bite the inside of her cheek to stop from physically sighing with relief. Frigga made everything better,  “As a family. Thanks to Loki’s sacrifice we have a head start against Thanos, and vital information that might help save our people.”

“Frigga says Thanos searches for the infinity stones,” Odin glowered, mouth tight as if every word hurt him, “and that he used you to try and procure the tesseract. Do you believe he seeks it still?”

“Yes.” Loki replied, gaze fixed on the carvings on the wall as if he was fascinated by them.

“We must stop him,” Thor smacked his hand against the table, eyes flashing, “before he comes to Asgard.”

“No,” Odin shook his head, “We will not seek him out, our people are our priority. _Should_ he be fool enough to come here, _then_ we will take action.”

“Father, we cannot wait,” Thor argued, “he is a threat to not only to Asgard but the very universe itself. I shall go myself.”

Loki snorted from beside her.

“You have a better idea, brother?” Thor challenged.

“Better than single handedly going up against a mad Titan, his assassins and an entire army dedicated to his cause?” Loki’s eyebrows lifted, “No, no, go right ahead. Norns speed.”

“Children,” Frigga clapped her hands, silencing Thor before he could get a retort out, “focus please. This is far more important than your bickering.”

It was like watching tennis. Terrifying, universal-consequence-having tennis. She was just turning to look back at Loki to see what he’d say next when Odin spoke up. His eye fixed on her now.

“What of you, Lady Darcy?” He asked, pinning her in place like a butterfly in a frame, “do you have any suggestions on how to remedy this situation, since it was _you_ who brought it to our attention.”

She bit her tongue at his tone, he said it like an accusation. Like she’d made it all up for shits and giggles.

_You’re fucking welcome dude._

Slamming down on the irritation she cleared her throat, her brain whirring like a broken computer fan. Suggestions, she could have suggestions.

“Uhhhh… okay. Yup, okay. So from what I know, he wants these stone things right? Like the Tesseract? That tells me he’ll come here sooner or later, plus he really wants Loki dead so that’s, like, an added incentive right there.”

“Thank you, Darcy,” Loki muttered.

“No problem.” She nodded without thinking, the scrapings of an idea coming together, “But what about the other stones? There are more right? If he comes here first then sure, wait it out and have at him, but if he already has the rest...”

“They are useless to him without the infinity gauntlet,” Odin shrugged her words off, turning away like she’d proved just how inconsequential her suggestions were, “it resides in our vault. He will come here first.”

“About that…” Loki sighed, gaze drifting back to the table at last.

“What is it?” Odin demanded.

“It’s fake.”

“It’s _what?”_ He roared, “And you never thought to mention it?”

Loki shrugged, “it never came up.”

 

—-

 

He hadn’t been back here in an age, the golden glow and heavy scent of incense stirring long forgotten memories. From a cell to the banquet hall to the war room, would wonders never cease.

It hadn’t changed, exact right down to the vein jumping on Odin’s forehead as he opened his mouth to roar again. Loki braced himself for the inevitable impact.

“Okay okay,” Darcy cut in, proof that he was wrong. Twice in one day no less. Some things definitely _had_ changed, “so he could have the gauntlet but he _doesn’t_ have the Tesseract. Where are the rest?”

Who had dared interrupt Odin in his own domain before? She was fearless. He found himself reaching for her under the table, his hand resting over her wrist on the arm rest. A silent show of solidarity.

“Lady Darcy,” Thor interjected in a rare show of good timing, “the mind stone is housed in Lo… in _the_ sceptre, which remains on earth. The rest, I do not know.”

“The Reality Stone was buried by my father where none could find it,” Odin rumbled, seemingly content to let the conversation continue even as he scowled. Magnanimous as he was, “the rest are scattered to the universe. If Thanos thinks them to be easy pickings he is a fool.”

Darcy considered it, he watched the wheels turning in her head. Straight white teeth nibbling at her lip as she absorbed the information. Lips he had found himself particularly fascinated by of late, when she had been beneath him on the warm flagstones it was all he could do not to… _no_. He shook himself. There was no time for that now.

“And he needs all of them?” She asked at last, eyes lifting to him and forcing him to focus on the moment at hand. There was something hazy in their depths growing sharper by the second, something _crafty_.

“What are you thinking?” He heard himself ask, eyes narrowing at her expression. At the way she seemed to come alive under his gaze, sparking like a match.

“I’m thinking what if… what if we destroyed them. The ones we know of at least. He needs the complete collectors edition, right?” She looked to him for agreement, the rest of the room forgotten around them, “he can’t destroy the universe if he doesn’t have them all, so we make sure he _can’t_ have them all.”

“You can’t just destroy an infinity stone.” He told her, too sharply perhaps as his fingers flexed against her wrist. The thought shot through him, sending shudders rolling down his spine.

“Why not?” She demanded, pulling her hand free and glaring up at him, “if they’re made they can be unmade, right? Everything can.”

“The amount of power it would take is unthinkable,” he shook his head, frustration burning in his chest as she rolled her eyes.

“I’ll try.”

“No you will not.”

“Yes I will too!” She snapped, colour blooming in her cheeks as she pointed a finger at him, “You all keep telling me how super magic I am. Why not put it to some actual use?”

“ _Because it could kill you!_ ” His voice echoed off the stone walls, ringing in the sudden silence. His heart was beating too fast, something cold clenching in the pit of his stomach as she stared up at him. She looked like she was about to say something more but Odin cut in.

“Enough.” He rumbled, reminding Loki that they weren’t alone in the room. He smoothed his face into impassivity, trying to hide the sudden rush of his blood in his veins as he looked away. “The Tesseract will remain in our vaults. We will prepare for Thanos’s arrival, when he comes, we will be ready.”

Odin was a fool. There was no preparing for Thanos.

When the mad Titan came Loki planned to be as far away as he could get, he only hoped Darcy Lewis would be smart enough to join him.

  
  
  



	16. Decisive Action

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh sorry this is so late! I’ve been with my baby girl Salem, she was spayed on Tuesday so the last few days have been entirely devoted to making her feel better! 💜
> 
> Thank you so so much to everyone reading and commenting though - hopefully this chapter is worth the wait! 😊

 

 

Darcy was in Jane’s room again, and she was pacing. She had too much energy, too many ideas, her brain buzzing like a fly in an electric light.

“You’re gonna wear a hole in that carpet.” Jane sighed, perched delicately on the edge of her bed.

“Doing nothing is a stupid idea.” Darcy replied, head still stuck in the war room even now. She pulled a sharp u-turn at the balcony doors and headed back the other way, fingers flexing distractedly at her side.

“You’ve said that already.” Jane pelted a screwed up piece of paper at her, smiling when Darcy caught it, “I’m sure, in his own way, Odin’s trying to do what’s best for his realm. He’s been king for a long time after all.”

“He’s being so short sighted!” Darcy was so worked up she couldn’t even laugh her own unintentional one-eye joke. _That_ was how bad it was. “Not to mention the fact the mind stone is so _totally_ not safe on earth.”

The paper scrap crumpled in her hand.

“We have the Avengers,” Jane offered, “they beat off Loki and his army didn’t they?”

“Sure, they beat off a brainwashed megalomaniac and his creepy insect back up dancers, Thanos is a whole ‘nother level of bad.” She shivered despite the warmth of the room, just saying his name made her feel wrong.

“I have faith in them. They can protect it, Darce.”

“Can they?” she turned, anxiety playing over her ribs like a xylophone as she looked seriously at Jane, “it’s a literal beacon for destruction, Jane, and it’s ripe for the taking. Besides, do they even _have_ it? I didn’t see it at the tower, did you?”

“Well no…”

“Or… or is not _way_ more likely that it’s been co-opted by one of the super shady government agencies running the world?” She tried to rub the goosebumps from her arms, stomach sinking with every word, “Do you think they’ll lock it up somewhere safe and leave it alone? Or do you think it’s more likely that, _right at this very moment,_ it’s in a hidden lab somewhere being poked at by people who have no idea what they’re doing, _or_ what the consequences might be?”

The room was silent as the thought sank in. Jane was holding one of the billions of plush cushions, fingers toying nervously with its tassels as Darcy tried to will the truth into her.

“I don’t know, Darcy…” she murmured.

Darcy squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back the familiar rush of her powers as they threatened to break again. Her magic straining against the uncertainty and frustration.

What was it Loki always said? _Indecision is an invitation to destruction._ Even if a choice is wrong, it’s right to make it.

She exhaled sharply, her magic settling as she made her decision. Right or wrong the die was cast.

“ _I_ know.” She said, letting her confidence rise as the plan started to unfurl inside her mind, “one way or another we gotta get that stone away from Earth and somewhere safe. Or better yet destroy the thing entirely.”

Her chest ached, faltering as she remembered Loki’s reaction to her plan. How adamant he was she not to attempt it. It was frustrating but weirdly  _sweet._

“Odin will not let you leave so easily,” a deep voice interrupted them, sending them scrabbling around to see Thor leaning in the doorway with a downcast expression, “forgive me, I did not mean to intrude, I was coming to meet Jane and overheard your conversation.”

“What do you mean,” Jane rose to her feet, wide eyes searching as she gravitated towards Thor, “that Odin won’t let us leave?”

There was the sixty million dollar question. Or whatever the Asgard equivalency was. Gold eye patches for all Darcy knew.

“He is having the bifrost guarded even now in preparation for what might be; you, Jane, he may allow to pass but the Lady Darcy,” blue eyes turned to her, creasing apologetically as he bowed his head, “I fear he will not let you go as easily, not with your powers still so new.”

 _And_ _useful,_ she thought. Bitterness coating her tongue, first he wanted to kill her now he was trying to use her. Sure, he had a planet to look after, she understood that from a political perspective, but from a personal perspective it made her want to rip his face off.

Would he brand her too if she refused? Like his father had branded Eris?

Make her an enemy of his people just for following her own path?

“He can’t do that,” Jane cut into her thoughts, as fierce as any warrior as she stared down Thor, “you can’t let him. Darcy’s right, Earth’s a sitting duck unless we do something to help.”

Darcy’s heart warmed, squeezing gently at Jane’s automatic back up. She wasn’t alone in this. There was a _chance._

“I fear there will be no convincing him,” Thor hesitated, lips pursing as Darcy ramped up to insisting on an audience with the one-eyed-wonder himself,  “but… there may be another way.”

“What is it?” Jane and Darcy asked simultaneously. She would’ve yelled _Jinx_ if the situation wasn’t quite so serious.

Thor’s eyes creased, mouth twitching as he looked away to his beloved, “You’re not going to like it, Jane.”

  


—-

 

The knock came an hour after the sun had set.

Loki ignored it, he’d been preparing to retire, the weight of the War Room still sitting heavily on him. _Thanos_. The name was a thorn in his side, a constant reminder of his failures.

What he wouldn’t give to erase that name from history, crush the memories into dust and scatter them to the wind. It seemed unfair that the Titan should chase him even now, a nightmare figure that overshadowed everything else.

He had no time for it, no patience for his unwanted spectre. He just wanted to _forget,_ to be some semblance of former himself again, fearless, confident, knee deep in plans as he twisted the world to his wants. Taking power where he found it.

He wanted to be free. He wanted to be a king. He wanted to be at peace. He wanted…

The knock came again, light, not Thor or a guard then, but insistent. His mother would have usually burst in by now. There was another option, one he was ashamed to admit he’d imagined all too often in the last few days.

Darcy Lewis at his door, mouth curled into a knowing smirk as she gazed at him with dark eyes. As she invited herself in and finished what he’d almost started...

Oh yes. He _wanted_ alright.

He opened the door to find her standing there like he’d summoned her, lip caught between her teeth as she looked up at him. For a moment he almost forgot himself, but it was not desire on her face now.

It was worry.

“Lady Darcy,” he felt his brow furrow, she was too still, too pale. Something was wrong, “It is a little late for a lesson, is it not?”

“Frigga sent me,” she rubbed nervously at her arms, gaze darting over to the guards as they pretended not to listen, “She said you could help.”

Fear clenched his stomach, a sharp stab as he hurried her in. Door closed tight behind them, he drew her deeper into the room, his mind racing with possibilities. Whatever it was it was bad enough that she had sought him out.

“Tell me,” he demanded as his powers rose. He cast them over her tentatively, flitting across her aura as he searched her face, desperate for the source, “what’s wrong?”

Small hands caught his, stilling him as she glanced back to the door.

“Can they hear us?” She mouthed, looking up at him again.

His gaze sharpened, head tilting as he considered her question. The wards didn’t guard against sound, and the night air carried whispers louder than the day. Placing a finger to his lips he locked his other hand in hers, drawing her deeper into his rooms.

It wasn’t until he’d shut the door to his bedchamber behind them that he even realised where he’d taken her. The moonlight filtered through the balcony windows, the only light in the darkness. It painted her like a lover, rendering her features gently in its glow.

She seemed made for divinity.

“They shouldn’t be able to hear us here,” he cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at her as she peered around the room, “Now tell me. What’s going on?”

She turned back to him, a crease forming between her brows as she met his gaze. He remembered vividly the last time she’d looked up at him like this. Breathless and warm. Eyes dark, lips parted.

“Can I trust you?”

Shock lanced through him, setting him back a pace as she woke him from his thoughts. He was the God of Mischief, the Prince of Lies. Trusting him was like trusting the tide not to turn.

He studied her, pondering how honest he should be. How much was a game and how much wasn’t. She just waited, the words hanging between them like smoke as she regarded him with fathomless blue eyes.

“No,” he replied at last, seeing her expression falter and almost wishing he’d chosen differently, “you can’t trust anyone, not really. I will do what’s best for me, always, but I don’t see why our interests should be at odds with one another.”

“Well that’s honest at least,” she scoffed, rubbing the back of her neck distractedly as some of the tension seemed to break from her. Shaking her head she turned from him, pacing the length of the room, “you know what? Fuck it, I’m gonna trust you anyway. The sceptre isn’t safe on Earth.”

“Probably not,” he agreed mildly, tracking her every move even as he strove to appear like he wasn’t, “Why are you telling me though?”

“Because,” the moonlight caught her eyes, a fierce glow in there depths as she whirled to face him, “I’m gonna steal it and take it somewhere safer. And... I need your help to do it.”

He gaped, utterly at a loss for words for the longest moment of his life. It seemed that Darcy Lewis would never fail to surprise him.

“You intend to steal the sceptre?” He repeated, not quite believing the words even as he said them.

“Yup.” She nodded, “first though I have to break out of here and get back to Earth without the almighty Odin realising.”

“You are aware you will be committing a criminal act?” He took a step closer, trying to read her face for signs of a joke, a test even. Some cruel ruse to see how he’d react.

“Several,” she shrugged, meeting him halfway, “across two planets. Releasing a prisoner, breaking and entering, probably impersonation of a government agent, maybe assault, _definitely_ destruction of property at some point, and theft, _of course._ So…” she looked up at him with a tired grin, wholly herself in the dim light, “You interested?”

He wanted freedom and here she was offering it to him with an open hand, despite all his sins and selfishness. He couldn’t help himself, control slipping from him as he seized her, dragging her face up to his and kissing her.

Peaches. She smelt like peaches and honey, drowning him in the scent as she gasped against him. He used the moment, slipping through the seam of her mouth to taste her heat. Her hands were curled against his neck, fingers sliding through his hair and _tugging._ He groaned, the sound working it’s way up from his chest in a growl as she laved her tongue against his.

He broke away first, gasping for air as his head spun in giddy intoxication. How long had it been since he’d kissed anyone? Especially like _that._ No political points or ulterior motives, just him and her and a fire that was threatening to burn him alive.

“I’m… I’m gonna take that as a yes?” She was beautifully dazed, fingers slipping from his collar to brush over her swollen lips as she looked up at him.

“Yes, Darcy Lewis,” he grinned, “I would very much like to escape this prison and help you commit various acts of intergalactic treason.”

“Oh good,” she exhaled with a laugh, tugging awkwardly at the ends of her hair “‘cos I have _no_ idea how to get off this planet.”

His mind was already racing, ideas sparking off each other like static shocks as he drank in the sight of her. He had known from the start she would change things, before he’d even laid eyes on her he’d _known._

“There are ways between the worlds,” he flexed his fingers, magic burning just beneath his skin, “there is one such path to Midgard east of here, beyond the city border.” It was not so very difficult to get too and he was more than ready to stretch his powers again, he rather looked forward to it in fact, “I can shield us from Heimdall, but the Einherjar will be harder to throw off. Once Odin discovers us gone…”

“Hmm,” the tip of finger tapped against her mouth again, focusing his gaze like a beam, “well then, we can’t let him discover that we’re gone until we’re like… _properly_ gone.”

“You have an idea?”

“You’re the master of illusions aren’t you?” She raised an eyebrow at him, “can't you just… illusion us as still being here? How often do people enter your room, anyway?”

“Aside from you, you mean?” He smirked, seeing the way her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, “I assure you, Lady Darcy, you are my _only_ night time visitor.”

“ _Good._  I mean, that’s… good, strategically,” he swallowed a laugh at her reaction, uncommonly pleased with himself, “so long as the guards think you’re in here, they’d have no reason to suspect anything’s going on until someone calls for you, right? It’s not like they’re banging on my door, Jane can cover for me for a day at least. How long will we need to get off this rock?”

“If we leave tonight we can be on Midgard by morning.” Now freedom had been offered he could think of nothing else, but there was another obstacle to overcome yet. His chains, visible and not, held strong, “But how do you propose we leave this room? I can talk you through ward removals but it may alert the guards.”

“No need,” she grinned, “I got that covered, in fact…”

Her eyes turned to the door, silencing him with a wave of her hand as she waited. Mouth moving silently as if she were counting down to something, he followed her gaze just in time for another knock to come, heavy and pounding this time. He froze, eyes flickering warily over her.

“ _Darcy…_ ”

“What?” She beamed, grabbing his arm and dragging him back into the main room, “Thor was pretty sure you’d be down for an escape attempt, I didn’t give the call off signal so here he is to help.”

“ _Thor_?” Loki scowled, good mood wavering, “you never mentioned he was involved.”

“Yes well,” she fixed him with a knowing look, “you didn’t _exactly_ give me much of a chance to explain.”

Her tongue darted over the curve of her lip and Norns curse him he almost kissed her all over again. Right here with Thor bearing down on them, her warmth a dangerous craving.

Clenching his fist he steeled himself, he had to focus. He wanted out. She wanted him out. He wouldn’t be fool enough to turn down help now.

Even from _Thor._

The knock came again, Loki rolling his eyes as Thor burst in without waiting for a response.

“Brother! Urgent summons from our mother, you must come at once.” He was holding the cuffs, Loki’s jaw tensed but he held his wrists out anyway. It was the only way he could leave the room after all. “Lady Darcy, you are needed too.”

“Do you not want any eggs with that _ham_?” Loki muttered as Thor dramatically cuffed him, he had always been a terrible actor.  

“Silence, Loki,” Thor hissed back, “has Lady Darcy not prepared you?”

He glanced over, smug pride washing through him at the colour still burning in her cheeks. The taste lingered in his mouth, a sweetness beyond compare. One he very much looked forward to sampling again.

“Oh yes,” he muttered back, “she has _prepared_ me, and quite thoroughly so. After you then, brother.”

  
  



	17. Run Aways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey gang! Thanks so much for your patience - Salem is doing better so I finally got time to get this posted 😊 thank you so much for all your kind thoughts for her! 💜
> 
> I haven’t shouted out my amazing beta in a while so thank you RogueSareth! You are always such a help! Also shout outs to DenseHumboldt (if you’re a Yonvers fan and aren’t reading her fanfics you are missing out! I can only aspire to be as good as her!) and everyone still reading and commenting on this beast! I can’t tell you how much it means to me 💜💜💜

 

 

The most important thing was the escaping.

Yes. Definitely. It was like, the _big_ thing. Trying to stop Thanos, saving the universe, it was all like _super_ important right now.

What _wasn’t_ important was experiencing vivid technicolour flashbacks of Loki, Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief, kissing her in his bedroom.

_Nope._

No thinking about that huge Viking bed with its jade sheets, all rumpled and inviting in the half light. And _definitely_ no reliving the feel of his mouth on hers, insistent and burning, _or_ the way he pulled her into the hard line of his body, sheer arrogance and intoxication and...

 _Snap out of it Darcy,_ she scolded herself, pressing herself further into the shadow of the column. _Focus for once in your damned life._

This end of the palace was silent, the air heavy with expectation as she awaited Loki’s return. He and Thor had their own part of the plan to accomplish, Loki had to create a duplicate for Thor to lead back to his rooms after the restraints had been removed.

If they didn’t get caught or kill each other first. Which was still a possibility.

“Darcy?”

She turned on her heel at the voice, ducking out from behind the pillar to wave at Jane. Thank God, five more minutes and she’d have snapped like a twig, she’d never been much good at waiting. Especially not with so much going on in her head and her mouth still tingling with the memory of his.

“Over here,” she whispered, waving frantically at the approaching figure, “come on.”

“I brought you your cloak,” Jane said as she joined her, holding up a bundle of fabric, “It might be cold out there, oh and I packed some food and stuff in a bag too. Just in case. Don’t worry, no apples.”

Warmth pricked behind her eyes, a lump the size of a golf ball lodging itself in Darcy’s throat as she hurled herself at Jane. Eyes squeezed shut as she hugged her with all she had.

“Thank you, Janey,” she mumbled into her thin neck, inhaling the familiar smell of soap and printer toner Jane never quite seemed to shake, “You’re the best, you know that right?”

“I know,” Jane laughed, patting her awkwardly on the back before gently prising herself loose, “you just be careful okay? You’re… you’re my best friend, Darce. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

“You too, Jane,” she said, coughing awkwardly as she tried to be a grown up and not immediately burst into tears. “Take care of yourself, okay? And look after the big guy.”

“Yes, _boss._ ” Jane teased, smiling tiredly as she took Darcys hands, “you remember the protocol, right? Me and Thor will follow as soon as we can, just-”

“Get a burner and leave a message on your mom’s machine saying I’m from the Mela Institute.” Darcy finished for her, fighting the urge to hug her again as the weight of what she was about to do hit her like a fist to the gut. “I remember the code.”

“Exactly,” Jane nodded, “and we’ll come and find as soon as we get to Earth. You won’t be alone.”

“I know.” She tightened her grip on Jane’s hand, almost afraid to let go now it was finally happening.

She was really doing this, escaping a magic realm with a wanted criminal, stealing an object of immense power and then… well. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Destroy it hopefully, or hide it if not. Shove it in a pocket dimension and lose the key.

And none of this took into account the fact she was trusting her life and liberty to _said_ wanted criminal who was deemed universally untrustworthy. Who’d kissed her and...

Oh hell. She’d really fucking done it this time.

 

—-

 

He was close.

So very _very_ close.

It was all Loki could do not to snarl as Thor took hold of his wrists with one hand, a delicate key held between the thick sausage-y fingers of the other.

“Any time now,” he remarked as lightly as he could as the moment lingered, itching with pent up frustration, “we have a way to go before sunrise, after all.”

Thor lowered the key to the lock, sliding it in with a metallic rattle. Then he stopped.

Something surged in Loki, a desperate battle for control, for _patience,_ as Thor hung there looking at him with pained eyes.

“I am doing this for her sake, Brother, you should know that.” He said, voice hushed in the deserted corridor.

“Whose?” Loki snapped, unable to tear his gaze away from the key. Heart thundering in his chest as he tasted the sharp edge of freedom.

“The Lady Darcy.” Thor rumbled awkwardly, “You care for her.”

“What? Of course I do, she’s a valuable asset,” Loki shrugged the words off, vexed at the simplicity of the statement as he _waited._ At this rate they would all be old and grey before Thor ever got around actually freeing him. That was if the Einjerhar didn’t catch them first, or Odin.

There was a pleasant thought.

“No.” Thor shook his head stiffly, “You _care_ for her _.”_

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sneered, frustration eating through the last frayed strands of his self control. One gesture, one _flicker_ of his magic and he could have it over with already. His impotence grated beneath his skin like broken glass, “just because your mortal has made you soft doesn’t mean the rest of us are similarly afflicted. Now will you free me or not?”

He wasn’t expecting the sadness in Thor’s eyes when he looked up at last. A milky blue that spoke of things Loki didn’t want to hear.

“I hope for your sake you see the truth.” Thor said softly, “Yours, and hers. The Lady Darcy is special, if you are honoured enough to win her heart you should do everything in your power to deserve it.”

Loki froze, uncertainty tarnishing his usually silver tongue as he stared warily back. Something in his chest squeezed, a faint throb of anger and envy and something that might have almost been regret.

“Her heart is not your concern,” he replied at last, the only words he could find as he stood there in the shadows and tried to ignore the prickling of Thor’s certainty. Thorns of doubt slipping into his skin.

The lock clicked, the binders pulled loose so suddenly he startled. He shivered in the cool night air, wrists bare and cold as the magic rushed back into him all at once.

“Of course it is my concern,” Thor sighed, seeming almost resigned as he stepped away at last, the cuffs loose in his hands, “she is my dear friend.”

Loki snapped his teeth shut against a retort, swallowing down all the cruel words he wished to say as power flooded his veins. The ugly rush of feelings that came with the idea that Darcy could be dear to anyone but… but _him._

No. He had no time for that, for any of it. Not with magic surging back into him properly at last, fierce and wild and _glorious_ as he flexed his fingers against it. It was begging for release, for _action,_  to claim dominion over all who would dare question him.

It would be so _easy._

Thor would never see the spell coming, Loki could act before anyone ever realised. He could overthrow Odin in his sleep and take his place as king. Vengeance, justice, he could have it all, head spinning with the vicious excitement of the thought.

His mother would come around eventually, and Thor could be banished with Odin easily enough. Sent back to his precious Midgard even, with his scientist, it would be a kindness really. Then Loki could be king, Asgard at his feet as he sat alone high above the rest.

And Darcy…

The magic ebbed, sinking back into his skin as he turned sharply away. He threw up a duplicate without looking, setting it to follow Thor back to his chambers as he stalked away, dismissing his brother without a word.

 

—-

 

Asgard was even more beautiful at night, outside of the palace gates the stars shone brighter than ever. A sky full of fairy lights above the city, gleaming off golden rooftops and waving trees.

Darcy tried her best to focus on that and not the fact her stomach kept trying to climb up into her throat like an antsy kitten. They’d stolen a horse.

A _horse._

A high tech magical world of flying ships and space travel and they’d boosted a fricking hose.

They’d snuck into the stables, Loki’s magic keeping them hidden from the guards as they’d released the furthest creature. Sneaking it through the palace gates before he threw her up in front of him like a bag of washing, one strong arm braced around her as he handled the reigns like a pro.

She loved horses, really she did. Big, beautiful things with shiny coats and big noses, majestic as they rode freely across the plains. She had not, however, ever ridden one before.

Especially not at break-neck speed through a midnight city with the ever present threat of danger on their heels. She bit down on a noise of distress, leaning further back into the firm wall of his chest in the dim hope it might somehow keep her from falling to her doom.

This was certainly not a fairground pony or the pastel pink equines she remembered from TV.

This was _a lot._

The beast thundered beneath them, hooves sparking against the flagstones as it hurled them up and down like the worst carnival ride in the history of ever. She forced her eyes shut, trying to focus on the steady weight of the man behind her instead. Warm leather, strong arms, great kisser.

Yup. That was _so_ much more calming.

“There,” Loki’s voice whispered against her ear, almost startling her right off the goddamn horse. She opened her eyes, hair whipping in her face as she followed his gesture, “the entrance to the black woods, the pathway is not far now.”

“Thank you God,” she mumbled, her butt had gone numb half an hour ago. Thighs screaming at the death-grip she had on the horse.

“You’re welcome.”

She groaned, _hearing_ the grin in his voice as he pulled her tighter against him. It was a blessing he was so fucking smug, otherwise she might have been in real trouble from him.

By the time she descended from The Beast her legs had forgotten their purpose altogether. Wobbling beneath her as Loki set her on her feet. The bastard didn’t even stumble.

“This way,” his arm stayed around her waist, she might have shrugged it off just to be contrary if it wasn’t the only thing keeping her moving as they descended into the woods.

The trees crowded in around them, so tall they blocked out the sky. The canopy lost to shadows as Loki carefully navigated them through the twisting roots and branches. She dug her fingers into his side, teeth clenched against the blackness.

His hand sparked, a small golden light rising from his palm to hover in front of them.

“Thanks,” she muttered, feeling stupid she hadn’t thought of it herself. Despite all her lessons her first reaction had been to wish for a flashlight, she hadn’t even _considered_ she could just magic one up.

She’d have to get on that sooner or later.

Probably later considering the fact that now the darkness had eased some she could see where Loki was leading them.

Straight towards a cliff edge.

The trees spilt over the edge, roots embedded deep enough to defy the laws of gravity. It wasn’t until they were almost at the rim that the sky finally opened up above them again, the moon peeking through at last and illuminating the rocky cliff face.

It’s base however was still lost in shadow, even Loki’s magic light didn’t seem to be able to touch it. Which was _terrifying._

“Uh… Loki…” her stomach plummeted, eyes widening as he showed no sign of slowing down or taking a different route, “where exactly are we going?”

He pulled at her hand, stopping a hair's breadth from the precipice and pulling her up beside him, arms catching around her waist before she could duck back to the safety of the forest.

“Where we need to,” he glanced down, frowning just a little before backing them up a pace. He was so close that when he looked up at her again she could see the stars reflecting in his eyes, “if the path was obvious everyone would use it. Besides, you’re the one who decided to trust me.”

“Yeah well that was before- _jesus fuck!”_ The sentence ended in a garbled scream of obscenities as he lifted her from the ground and stepped off the edge.

She was weightless, yelling, light bursting in her eyes as she struggled against his arms. Steel bands crushing the breath from her lungs for a handful of heartbeats.

Her feet hit the ground, his arms loosening at last as she swore a blind streak at him. Her organs landed a split second after she did, kicking her in the gut as adrenaline flooded her.

“That was- that was-” she struggled for breath, hands braced on her knees as she fought the urge to kiss the ground. The lovely  _solid_ ground.

“Yes?” He prompted her, supremely casual as she hauled herself upright and punched him in the arm.

“ _Not cool.”_ She yelled, eyes narrowed to points as she glared at him, “warn a girl before you shove her off a cliff why don’t you?!”

“My sincerest apologies,” he said without a shred of sincerity, the sunlight catching blue in his hair.

Wait. Sunlight.

Turning away Darcy gaped, it was quite clearly the middle of the day, the sun shining weakly through a thick cover of clouds. They were in an alleyway, garbage piled up on either side and, just a few feet from where they stood, people passed back and forth past the entrance.

Human people. In human clothes.

“We did it!” She squeaked, anger forgotten altogether as she wheeled back to him, pulling up short when she saw him adjusting the cuffs of the crisp black suit he definitely hadn’t been wearing a second ago.

The boy looked _good._

“Not that you don’t look ravishing, Lady Darcy,” he said to his cuff link, mouth curving just so in a smirk, “but perhaps a wardrobe alteration is called for. If you want us to pass unnoticed, of course.”

His eyes darted up, fixed on her with a singular intensity that made her heart stutter. The guy was a one man roller coaster that had her emotions on a permanent loop.

“Sure,” she shrugged, aiming for unaffected even as her face flushed. “Just a sec.”

Right. Magic. She could do magic. Easy.

Even though it felt _super_ weird to do it now, on Earth, with the scent of garbage and diesel hanging heavy in the air and a car horn blaring in the distance.

It was one thing to be magic on a magic planet, this… this just felt jarring. The jump from night to day messing with her head.

“Miss Lewis?” He touched her shoulder, making her squeak at the sudden contact.

“Just a sec,” she waved at him, blushing twice as hard as she screwed her eyes shut.

Magic magic magic.

Think, want, do.

Inhaling deeply she blocked out the sounds, focusing on the steady warmth of his hand on her shoulder and the sun on her face. Her magic rose sleepily, swirling against her skin, strange and achingly familiar all at once.

_Think._

The burgundy dress with the high neckline and the floaty skirt. That one pair of black tights that never snagged. The boots she’d gotten in New York last time she was there. The grey coat with the too-long sleeves. The scarf Jane gave her for Christmas with the blue pattern.

_Want._

She pictured her clothes changing, imagined how warm the coat would be against the cold. How soft the dress felt against her skin. How fricking good her legs looked in those boots.

_Do._

Exhaling she let the spell go, feeling her tension drain with it.

“Perfect,” Loki murmured in her ear, setting her blushing all over again as she turned to grin up at him. “Well, _almost_.”

He reached for her, brushing a hand lightly against the neck of her dress and making her gasp. Her skin sparked, brain going fuzzy as she fixated in on his touch, his mouth, how firm and…

Wait.

_Wait._

Was he _magicking_ her dress?

“For real?” She asked, watching the burgundy fabric ripple to green. “You’re incorrigible,” Shaking her head she pulled away, skin alive with electricity she was _so_ not going to acknowledge, “although speaking of _‘passing unnoticed_ ’ aren’t you… y’know… totally a wanted criminal. What do we do if someone recognises you?”

“They won’t,” he was beside her in a single stride, threading her arm decisively through his as he led them out of the alley into the street beyond, “unless I want them too. Would you like to see what they see?”

“Sure,” she nodded, falling into step with him easily. She hadn’t been surrounded by this much life in forever. Storefronts and loud conversations and Starbucks. It was so weirdly, wonderfully normal.

“There,” he gestured to the store next to them, the window reflecting them back almost perfectly aside from his face.

She squinted, pulling him closer as she examined the familiar stranger next to her in the glass. It was all just a little bit wrong, his jaw too square, nose too wide, hair too light. She couldn’t help but think he looked a tiny bit like Thor.

Like the brother he seemed determined not to claim.

“I changed my mind,” she said, turning back to him with a smile, “I like the real Loki better.”

His mouth twitched, eyebrow rising as he muttered, “there’s a first time for everything I suppose.”

“Come on then,” she grinned, pulling him towards the end of the block, “we have a stone to find! First things first though, I need a _serious_ coffee fix.”  



	18. Hot, Tasty, and Just a Little bit Bitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should stick a disclaimer here stating I know absolutely nothing about computers or hacking, everything here is pure bullshittery and I hope y’all are okay with that 💜
> 
> Thanks as always to the good people reading and commenting! You’re all completely responsible for keeping this fic going 💜

 

 

Bitterness coated Loki’s tongue, harsh and sharp as he lounged in his seat.

There were many excellent reasons for acting as he had done, that was obvious to him now. A power like Darcy Lewis’s didn’t come around nearly as often as the chance for revenge after all. No, it had been _wise_ , she was a unique opportunity. An interesting diversion. And the fact she was inadvertently offering him a shot at another infinity stone… well, that didn’t exactly _hurt_ either.

What had nothing to do with his decision, however, had been her kiss, no matter how affecting it might have been in the moment. Neither did the joyful sharpness of her tongue or the fire in her eyes, her easy laugh or the soft warmth of her hand tangling in his.

That had absolutely nothing to do with it whatsoever.

“Do you like it?”

He startled as the object of his thoughts spoke. Darcy looked back at him with an easy grin, practically glowing in the mundane Midgardian establishment. She’d navigated the streets of Oslo flawlessly, seemingly nonplussed at their location as she found an _Internet Cafe_ and pulled him inside.

“I have had coffee before,” he sniffed, hiding his train of thought behind the rim of his cup, caffeine scalding through him.

“Sure, I bet all that world domination was thirsty work.” She snorted.

“I’m sorry,” he shot back, eyes lingering on the plastic cup in her hand as she raised it to her mouth, “did you want some? I was under the impression you only drank sugar.”

“Oh shut up Mister ‘I drink it black like my soul,’” she snarked, lips fastening around the straw. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked down syrup and whipped cream with a catlike smile.

He swallowed hard.

“ _Kan jeg hjelpe deg med noe annet?_ ” He hadn’t even noticed the waitress until she was right next to them. Cursing himself for his distraction as he almost spilled his drink.

“ _Nei Tuscan takk,_ ” Darcy replied easily, waving the woman away with a smile as he righted himself and strove to appear unaffected, “ _jeg har det bra_.”

“I didn’t know you spoke the language,” he remarked after she had thanked the waitress. Letting his eyes drift around the room as if he didn’t have a care in the world before focusing back on her again.

“Only a little,” she hitched a shoulder, turning back to the computer she’d taken control of and cracking her knuckles, “I got stuck here for a while, Shield stashed me and Jane in Norway during the attack on New York, in case you… well…y’know.”

She trailed off awkwardly, fingers halting before they hit the keys as she looked back at him again.

“Ah, well,” he drew a fingertip across the surface of the desk, shrugging as the shadow of discomfort settled over him, “I suppose it wasn’t a _completely_ inadvisable plan.”

The sceptre had drawn out his darkest self after all, every sliver of hatred growing and mutating until he could barely contain it. He had wanted to conquer Earth and he had wanted to hurt Thor. Taking Jane Foster would have accomplished both of those things, she could have opened the portal as easily as Doctor Selvig after all, and then, when her purpose was served, he could have just as easily crushed her in front of Thor’s eyes.

And Darcy?

He would have had no use for her back then. Would he have seen her potential in its rawest form despite his madness? With his mind splintered and her body wholly mortal?

Would he have recognised her capacity for greatness, or would he have snuffed her out like a candle and never looked back...

His stomach twisted at the thought.

“Yeah, well, look at us now,” she aimed a smile at him as he set his drink aside, suddenly no longer quite as enamoured with the flavour as he had been, “who’da thunk you’d be working with one of those pesky mortals to help save the planet.”

“Who indeed.”

 

—-

 

Darcy didn’t realise how quiet Asgard was until she was back on Earth. The palace had been a world of big, empty halls and the distant sound of birdsong.

Earth was _loud._

She basked in it, the buzz of Norwegian chatter and the clinking of mugs on tables around them. The cheery bop of the radio and the thunder of the city in the background.

It was _wonderful._

The weighty plastic keys clacked satisfyingly under her fingers, the scent of coffee blowing warm across her face.

Now if only she could just get into Shield’s network it would be perfect.

“Damn,” she swore, thumping her hand onto the table, “it’s no good. This computer's just not equipped to handle what I need it to.”

She’d been trying for the better part of an hour but it wasn’t happening. For all the magic and mystery in the world she’d been stymied by an out of date operating system and a drive that could only have been considered high tech at the same time as VHS players.

“What will we do?”

“Good question,” drumming her fingers against the surface of the desk she considered their options, “go to Stark Tower? Five minutes with one of Tony’s setups and I could own this bitch. So long as he didn’t notice, which he probably would do if we just… show up. Well Jarvis would at least and tell him, which would mean questions and possible Shield involvement. Damn.”

“Alternatively, we could sneak in and I could take the information directly from his mind, make him forget he’d ever seen us.” Loki offered, mouth twitching, “It would be a relatively simple spell. I could show you.”

“Oh no,” she shook her head, “we’re doing this my way. No unnecessary Jedi mind tricks, or harm to _any_ Avenger.”

There was too much that could go wrong, too many risks they had to juggle. There had to be an easier way, one that meant she wouldn’t have to explain what she was doing back on Earth without Jane or Thor in the presence of a random Asgardian.

Or _why_ she wanted access to Stark’s tech so badly.

“Pity,” Loki sighed, all laconic elegance as he slumped back in his chair.

Best not to look at him, that way she could avoid the Loki-related brain freeze she got every time she met his gaze.

Stupid handsome weirdo.

He seemed to delight in confusing her, kissing her one minute, hurling her off a cliff the next. Still, points where points were due, he’d gone from world conquering to world saving. Gotta admire that growth.

“Well?” He prompted as the moment lingered, “What is ‘ _your way,’_ my lady.”

“If we’re gonna be earthing it up you better stop with the m’ladying, good sir,” she muttered, staring blankly at the notice board behind his head, the bright orange flyers fluttering every time the door opened, “Darcy’s just fine.”

Not that she wasn’t just a _little_ bit enamoured by those courtly formalities in his accent. Even the fact they always came with just a hint of sarcasm only seemed to make it hotter.

“Well, _Darcy?”_

Clearing her throat awkwardly she let her gaze clear, focusing on the dancing pumpkins pasted on the notice board as if they held the secrets to all her problems.

Which they did.

Snapping back to herself she whirled towards the computer, “we’re going to a party!”

“Excuse me?” His eyes widened, eyebrows flying up as she impatiently loaded the browser again.

“Stark throws this big shindig for Halloween every year, everyone with a Stark Pass is invited, it’s not like the penthouse parties he throws but hey, it’ll do, and...” dragging up her email she winced at the 2,999 unread messages before heading for the search bar, filtering it down to a handful, “I have an invite riiiight…. here.”

“And how does this… _shindig…_ further our quest?”

“Easy,” logging off she turned back to her companion, ignoring his eye roll completely, “you were right about the sneaking in thing - _don't_ let it go to your head - and this gives us the perfect cover. We rock up tomorrow night, incognito of course since costumes are mandatory, drink some free champagne and then _,_ at an opportune moment, duck out to _borrow_ some of Stark’s tech. Bam we’ll have the location before anyone realises and away we go! No harm, no foul, _no_ unnecessary risks.”

“Well,” he shrugged, cheek twitching as if he was holding back a smile, “not how I’d do it but I can’t say I disapprove, it has a certain… theatrical charm. How do you suggest we return to New York before tomorrow then?”

She hitched an eyebrow at him, “magic, duh.”

 

—-

 

The Midgardian idea of _first class_ was woefully lacking, but, without a conveyance device in his possession, it would have to do. His kingdom for the Tesseract.

The seats were comfortable at least, wide soft leather beasts set two a breast in three rows. He and Darcy had secured the furthest most pair, a few concealment charms and some gentle persuasion spells had seen to that. A privacy spell hanging over them like an umbrella as they sailed through the night sky.

“I still don’t know much about these stones you know,” she’d tilted her chair back, curled up sideways to better face him when she spoke, “Aside from the fact that _Big T_ wants them, and can apparently destroy the world with them.”

“Every world,” he corrected, lowering his voice as he mirrored her position. Spell or not, some conversations were best held in murmurs, “there are six in total, remnants of the time before the universe began. Each with the power to control an aspect of existence itself; space, time, reality, power, mind, and soul.”

“Woah,” she murmured, resting her hand against her chin as she leant closer still. Waiting expectantly for him to continue.

Who was he to disappoint?

“In their rawest form they can only be wielded by beings of immense power, that’s why they’re contained. The tesseract, the sceptre, they are simply ways of controlling then. Alone each stone has the capacity to grant its user an immense power, but together…”

He trailed off, letting the thought hang there. He had wielded two infinity stones in his time and had only tasted a sliver of their potential. With proper time and consideration they could shape worlds.

“It’s too much,” she whispered, rousing him from his thoughts, “all of them together? It’s too much power for anyone to be allowed to have.”

“You believe in such a thing as _too_ much power?” His eyebrows lifted a fraction.

“Of course, if one person had that amount of control over the universe everything else would become useless. _Boring_. There would be no…”

“Chaos left in the world?” He finished her thought with a smile, eyes tracing appreciatively over the fire sparking in her gaze, “Why Lady Darcy, I think you’re coming into your own at last.”

“Oh shut up,” she grumbled good naturedly, shifting in her seat, “you agree with me.”

“Perhaps.” He shrugged, “at one point all that power would have been irresistible to me, but I suppose you have a point, it _would_ get boring.” nodding firmly he narrowed his eyes, “Yes I think one or two stones would suit me just fine. Three at a push.”

Snorting with laughter, Darcy reached over to swat at him. He caught her hand on instinct, hearing the hitch in her breathing as he turned it is his. Tracing the lines of her palm.

He seemed incapable of restraining his impulsive nature around her, discovering the down fall of his self control had a name. Darcy Lewis.

“And the gauntlet?” She asked breathily, the blue in her eyes swallowed by black. “What does that do?”

“It controls all six stones together,” he drew the outline of each against her knuckles, saving the last for the centre of her hand, “unites them. With the gauntlet a person could change the fabric of reality itself.”

“And we’re gonna stop it.”

“I suppose we’ll try.” He released her hand. He didn’t normally feel the cold but he felt it in her absence, she was a warmth he couldn’t help but crave.

 

—-

 

Darcy wasn’t sure what was more freaky, the cosmic power of these magic stones, or the fact she was seriously considering jumping the God of Mischief in public over a freaking _hand_ touch.

The boy was good at it. But like, duh, _of course_ he was good at it, he had about a thousand years worth of practise seducing folk. Which… yeah, she didn’t love that actually. How many other people had he kissed? Touched? How did she stack up?

Why was he even bothering with her now?

“So… I couldn’t help but notice that you, uh, kissed me earlier.” She blurted the words out without thinking, because of course it was the _perfect_ time to shove her foot in her mouth.

Yup. That’d make the six hours they had left in the air just _fly_ by.

He blinked, long dark lashes fanning against his cheek as he tilted his head at her.

“I did.” He agreed simply, gaze fixed as he waited for her to continue. Doing that still, silent thing he did where he made her want to keep talking just to fill the gap.

“I was just wondering,” she caved, “why exactly did that happen?”

His brow furrowed, “are the reasons for kissing significantly different on Midgard? Surely things haven’t changed _that_ drastically in my absence.”

Biting the inside of her cheek she fought the urge to smack him again, face heating like a kettle until she thought steam might well burst from her ears, “Yes, okay, but like… _why_? Why me?”

He reached for her then, cool fingers tracing the line of her jaw and making her heart stop, drop and roll.

“Because I wanted to,” he said as if that answered everything, “and I had the notion you might be amenable to it as well, was I mistaken?”

“No,” she said in a breathy squeak, “I mean I’m… was… _amenable_.” Placing her hand over his she drew it slowly away, it was impossible to think with him touching her. She was only human after all, well, _mostly_.

“Should you wish I will desist from any future such… notions.”

Was she imagining it or did his face fall just a little as he said it? Something like disappointment flickering behind the wall he kept up at all times as he drew back from her.

She didn’t know. Hell, she didn’t even know how _she_ felt about it and she was in her own head.

She’d always been the queen of super casual affairs. Her relationships were like fireworks, bright and beautiful and _brief._ They fizzled out easily, never lasting more than a month or two at most, and she’d certainly never met a person she couldn’t shrug off with a bottle of vodka and a best of the 90s CD.

Until now at least.

Loki was different. _Obviously_. He was a morally ambiguous space prince with a rap sheet longer than her arm and an accent that could talk the habit off a nun. But it was more than that, it was the fact there was nothing _casual_ about him. Definitely not a dude who could be forgotten with a bottle of grey goose and a good sing along.

He was intense and unreadable in turns, a perfect facade hiding a vulnerability that ran so deep it made her ache. She liked him, she was _definitely_ attracted to him, and she’d be an idiot to believe she could trust him.

The clue was in his name after all; Loki, God of Mischief, God of Lies, and yeah, definitely he of the silver tongue.

“I never said that,” she replied at last, eyes flickering to his mouth and back. “I mean, _should_ you wish to act on that kinda notion again, I may well be amenable to it. If you are. Although I reserve the right to revoke said amenability at my leisure.”

“Of course, my lady,” his eyes flashed, the colour tattooing itself into her mind, long grass in the winter sun as he smiled, “As you wish.”

Darcy Lewis was no coward but she might well be an idiot.

Even if this was just a game for a bored god and whatever she felt for him; like, lust, longing, any other terrifying ‘L’ word, didn’t mean jack shit in the end, she couldn’t help herself. Some things were too tempting to resist, Loki of Asgard chief among them.

 

 

 


	19. Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this last night but then alcohol happened, my deepest apologies for the delay! 🤣
> 
> So mega thanks this chapter go to my beta RogueSareth, and the long suffering DenseHumboldt who had to sit through my mental breakdown over this chapter. Thank you for reading all 1700 different versions of this and helping me decide which one to go with DH, you are an actual life saver and the goddess of words - confirmed!
> 
> And of course huge great fuzzy thank yous to everyone reading and commenting, it literally gets me off my butt every day to write and I love you for it forever!

“You live here?”

Darcy rolled her eyes, flicking on the light-switch as she ushered Loki into the shoebox apartment she’d shared with Jane. One glance was enough to tell anyone with eyes that they weren’t in Asgard anymore, that was for damn sure.

“I did, for a while at least. I’m amazed Stark is still paying the rent on it,” she scanned the living room, nose crinkling in distaste, “Although he coulda sent a cleaning service, jeez.”

It was just as they’d left it four months ago, clothes spilt everywhere, sides stacked with odds and ends, not to mention the pizza box on the table she really did _not_ want to open.

God only knew what monstrosity had grown in there in the meantime.

Any simmering sexual tension they’d had had been neatly crushed by the long haul flight, the shitty traffic their Uber had been caught in on the way from the airport, _and_ the four flights of stairs they’d just climbed.

All Darcy wanted right now was a snack, a shower and a proper night's sleep. Oh, and for the apartment to look a little less like an episode of Hoarders waiting to happen.

Sighing to herself she stretched her hand out, letting her magic rise up through her veins and into her fingers. Think, want, do. Easy. The power swirled out, the laundry basket righting itself, everything settling into neat formations and piles of folded clothes. The ancient pizza box thankfully vanished into thin air and took whatever Eldritch horror it contained with it.

“Better,” Loki sniffed.

“It’s not a _dungeon_ _cell_ , sure,” she shot him a look out the side of her eye, “but it’ll do for tonight.”

“Touché.”

She snorted, slinging her bag onto the side before trying to pull her boots off. She figured if she acted casually maybe it would suddenly _make_ the situation casual, like she wasn’t spending the night with the Prince of Asgard in her and Jane’s science hovel.

The place felt strange to her now, cold and cramped and unfamiliar. They moved about a lot in the pursuit of space learning so she was used to not getting attached, but even then she’d felt _something_. Even if it was just for the familiar doo-dads and photos she stuck up in every place they stayed.

Now it didn’t feel like hers at all, none of it did. The remnants of another girl’s life.

“Make yourself at home,” she said, clearing her throat awkwardly as she dumped her coat on the rack by the door. Strange or not it would do for now, “first door is the bathroom, second is Jane’s room, then mine. The rest of the apartment is… well, this.”

He shrugged off his perfectly tailored suit jacket and hung it carefully next to hers, a pure bred panther in a moggy’s cat house. She’d expected him to revert back to Asgardian casual wear but he didn’t, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs instead and pushing up the sleeves, when he reached to loosen his collar she had to physically look away.

Okay, so maybe that sexual tension hadn’t been crushed quite as thoroughly as she thought.

“I’m… I’m gonna go take a shower.” A damned cold one at that, “Get the, uh, travel grime off, y’know. You just… stay here, watch some tv or something.”

He stalked after her like a shadow as she turned on the TV. A solid wall of heat at her back.

“Here,” her pulse thundered as she pressed the remote into his palm, trying to ignore the static that tingled through her every place their skin met. A glass sharp awareness that made her breath catch, “don’t be disappearing on me, okay?”

“I shall endeavour not to,” he murmured, sin incarnate as a lock of black hair fell casually in front of his eyes.

Her hands itched to touch it, brush it away and…

_Nope._

“Okay then,” she made herself nod, feet on auto pilot as she turned away. “Be right back.”

Retreating to the relative safety of the bathroom she locked the door behind her. Breathing a sigh of relief as she tried to get her head on straight again.

She tugged at the light cord, confronting herself in the mirror as the fluorescent bulb flickered on overhead with a buzz. She still looked like Darcy Lewis, mostly anyway, but the girl staring back at her wasn’t the same as the one who’d left. She touched the mark that was peeking just above the neckline of her dress, so familiar she almost couldn’t imagine a time before it now.

She’d changed. She was okay with that now.

Turning to the shower she tried to work some of the tension from her shoulders. What she was less certain about was what exactly _New Darcy_ wanted to do about the Loki situation in her living room. She had some ideas of course, filthy sweaty ideas that had her whacking the temperature down so far it would make a Jötunn proud, but whether it was wise to go through with them or not was another matter.

She supposed there was only one way to find out.

 

—-

 

Loki could not conceive of a more exquisite torture than this. Alone with her in this quiet little world she’d created, far from prying eyes.

He could hear the water running from her shower, his mind drowning him with images of it sluicing off her luscious curves. Running in rivulets from the ends of her hair, over the mark on her collarbone and down between the valley of her breasts. Trailing across her stomach, between her thighs…

He clenched his fist, the flimsy plastic device she’d handed him cracking in his hand. He cast it aside, turning sharply away to examine her living space. Praying that if nothing else it might distract him from the aching need that currently had hold of him, biting his teeth together so hard he feared they might break.

She’d said the third door led to her chambers, the furthest from the washroom, thank the Norns. It’s door was already ajar, practically begging him to look closer. Straightening his spine he approached.

It was just as messy as the outer room had been, clothes hanging from every surface. Her bedspread was rumpled and a series of wires hung from the socket above the headboard. The desk opposite held more clutter, the mirror above papered with images she’d stuck to the frame.

He approached the photos first, none of them looked more than a few years old. Her and Jane Foster. Her and Eric Selvig. There was even one of her and Thor, both of them grinning with their thumbs up outside of a worn looking eating establishment.

He plucked that one loose, something dark squeezing between his ribs as he let it fall to the floor. Thor’s words echoing up inconveniently from where he’d tried to hide them.

_You care about her._

Ragnarok was at hand, it must be. There was no other explanation for Thor being right about something. It seemed that despite his better judgement he did indeed care about Darcy Lewis _._ And rather too much for his liking at that.

That was the problem.

Licking his teeth he turned away, focusing on the items on the surface of the desk instead. Notebooks and scraps of paper dominated the space between clusters of cosmetics and stacks of books. He paused to peruse them more closely. A thick-backed tome on astrophysics, a well-thumbed romance novel with a dark haired lothario on the front, and, to his surprise, a worn copy of Machiavelli's _The Prince._

He picked it up, flicking the pages between his fingers and finding dozens of notes scrawled in the margins. He didn’t have time to examine them any further before a cough came from the doorway behind him.

Turning sheepishly he held it up, “it seems I’m not the only one with thoughts of conquest.”

She raised an eyebrow, “who doesn't want to rule the world?”

Her hair was still damp, curling over her bare shoulders in thick locks. She’d changed, the dark blue fabric of her oversized shirt hanging off her shoulders, a logo emblazoned on the front he didn’t recognise. Beneath she seemed to be wearing black shorts and little else.

He swallowed thickly, forcing his eyes up again as she crossed the room and plucked the book from his hand.

“And do you agree with his ideas?” He heard himself ask, watching her every movement as if it held the key to some great secret.

“Machiavelli had some good insights,” she said, setting the book back in its place, “and some pretty fucking terrible ones too.”

“What would they be?” He asked, the heat he’d only just banished from his blood returning with a vengeance.

“‘It’s better to be feared than loved,’ for one” she quoted, lips pursing just so, “I disagree. Fear alone will never secure a stable principality, there will always be the threat of revolution or invasion. Besides, I’d rather live five minutes being loved than a thousand years surrounded by people who fear me.”

He froze, something wedging hard in his throat at her words.

“And what if one’s nature means they’re only capable of inspiring fear?” He asked, preternaturally still as she looked up at him from far too close, “What then?”

“Then I’d say _one_ wasn’t trying hard enough,” she shrugged, gaze tracing his features in a disturbingly intimate manner, “or maybe they’re not looking in the right places.”

The words cut deeper than he’d expected, slicing into his weakness and leaving him to bleed. Her kiss had been a revelation, her affection as intoxicating as it was bizarre. The idea that this creature could want him, _him,_ knowing all that she did of him and his past had been irresistible.

And impossible.

He had deluded himself.

She knew nothing, her words proved that. It was one thing to accept him as he stood, his past nothing more than a fairytale, but he doubted she would be so eager if she saw the horror of his true self. The darkness he held hidden behind a mask so old it had become more comfortable than his own tainted skin.

No. In the end she would run like any other, revile him for the monster he was.

The feeling twisted in his gut, running icy through his veins as he turned away from her. “Your naivety astounds me.”

“Woah-” he felt her following him, a beacon he couldn’t escape as she trailed in his wake, “rude much?”

“Does my nature offend you?” he replied through clenched teeth, “tell me girl, did you think you could toy with a monster forever and not expect to see its claws?”

“A… monster?” She had the gall to sound confused, as if she hadn’t once thought of him the same. The touch of her hand on his shoulder had him spinning on his heel, mouth open in a snarl.

“I should thank you for reminding me,” he growled as she dragged her hand away, holding it tightly against her chest like he’d burnt her, _frozen_ her, “there is no effort that will render me worthy of anything but _fear_ , no smile that can cure me of my blood. It was foolish of me to forget it.”

Her lips parted, mouth moving silently as she looked at him in horror.

Yes, _horror_ . Vindication flooded through him, bittersweet and overwhelming. It was what he _deserved_. No amount of banquets or kisses could change him, no pretty words could mask his true nature forever.

“Wow, you are _such_ an asshole.” He faltered, the shock in her voice startling him as her gaze snapped up. “ _That’s_ what this is about?”

 

—-

 

She couldn’t believe it, off balance and reeling as she stared up at him. She felt like she had whiplash, one moment everything was fine, better than fine really. Him, her, a dead Italian philosopher and a good dose of tasty sexual tension.

The next… _this._

His words stung. ‘ _Naive_ _,’_ she’d been called worse sure but it hurt more coming from him. Hurled at her like a blade with absolute derision in his voice. Not to mention the fact that he’d accused _her_ of toying with _him_. She wasn’t the one going around kissing people and making them like her and feel for her and then tearing it all away.

And all because he thought she cared about his stupid, messed up blood line. Like she was as narrow minded as the rest of them.

She really thought he knew her better than that.

“You’re not a monster, Loki,” she said as the silence lingered, hands shaking with pent up frustration,  “but _damn_ you know how to act like one sometimes.”

Swallowing tightly she turned away, if he wanted to lash out, _fine,_ but he could find a different punching bag. She was way too tired for this.

“You don’t know,” he said it so quietly she almost didn’t hear him, words tight and vicious,  “you haven’t _seen_ it.”

Oh. _Oh._ She swallowed, mind connecting dots she hadn’t even bothered to think about before. The fact he didn’t look anything like the Jötunn’s in the books she’d read, that Frigga had once told her about the transformation spell they’d put over him as a child to protect his identity.

The face he must have discovered hiding behind his own not so very long ago.

She didn’t have to do this though, she didn’t have to dig any deeper or put up with any more of him. She could walk away and leave him to angst away in peace.

Ugh. Like hell she could. Staring intently at the door frame she said, “then show me.”

“ _What?”_

She turned in time to see a look of utter terror cross his face, eyes wide with panic as she met his gaze. The shutters falling just as fast, leaving him cold and distant in front of her.

“Go on,” she prompted, tapping her foot impatiently, “you think you’re so bad? Prove it. Show me the monster, _scare_ me away.”

“You do not know what you ask.” He hissed, rearing back like she’d physically attacked him.

“I know this,” she said, arms folded tightly across her ribs, “Either you’re gonna frighten me off or you’ll have to accept the fact that you’re not as bad as you like to think, and that I’m sure as _hell_ not as pathetic.”

The room practically echoed with everything he wasn’t saying, mouth held in a thin line as he glared down at her. She’d seen that look before, the burning anger barely covering the pain below. The _vulnerability_.

She’d kept everyone at arms length with a smile and quip, one earphone in at all times as she kept herself to herself. Could she blame him for doing the same thing with a snarl instead?

“C’mon,” she sighed, suddenly exhausted. Cold in the dimly lit apartment, “do you _really_ think I care who your parents were? Or what you look like? I don't like you because of your face.” She caught her breath, mouth twitching in the ghost of a smile as she added, “your accent, _maybe_.”

“It is one thing to know it,” he said, something feral in his gaze. A wounded animal one step away from attacking her or fleeing completely, “and quite another to see it. It’s… _ugly_.”

“I don’t believe that,”

 

—-

 

It didn’t matter what she believed. It didn’t matter what _anyone_ believed. He was a monster, it was ingrained into his core. Inescapable, inevitable, no matter how hard he tried to run from it.

She would run too, he knew it in his bones, in his cold cold blood. So why didn’t he show her? Why not cut to the chase and get this whole mess over with so he could sit in grim satisfaction of his own rightness.

Why did the thought of disgust in her eyes fill him with such nameless dread?

 _Weakness_. It was weakness. And he had to stamp it out.

Shuddering he reached for the ties of his magic, the one hideous knot he refused to loosen lest he could never fasten it again. He hadn’t touched it since he’d first discovered it in the wastes of Jötunnheim all those years before. A black tumour beneath his heart that even he, with all his magic, had never known was there.

One that changed the very fabric of his being.

“As you wish.”

He could deny her nothing it seemed, not even this, steeling himself against her inevitable horror he tugged at the spell. It was only right that she knew the real creature she was courting with after all, if only to her allow her to flee whilst she still could.

In a way it was the least selfish thing he’d ever done.

The spell slipped free, his whole body shuddering as the transformation washed through him. Seeing the familiar skin of his hands change before his eyes, rippling into the icy blue of the enemy. He looked away, bile coating his tongue as he awaited her disgust.

“ _Oh_ .” The soft exclamation tore into him, barely able to raise his eyes to hers. He still _felt_ like himself _,_ that was the worst of it, knowing that despite it she would see something else entirely.

The _beast._

“Now you see the truth.” He wanted to turn away, to hide himself as she drew her gaze over him. Examining him openly, fearlessly. It was almost more than he could bear.

“I thought it would be more dramatic,” she said at last, voice soft in the stillness, “you still look like you. Just a little different.”

He flinched, wanting to reject her words. Her simple curiosity. Glaring at her even as the dozen sharp retorts he came up with died in his throat.

“Is this it?” She asked eventually, head tilting as her eyes traced features he couldn’t see. He didn’t _know_ , “as far as attempts of scare me off go it’s not done much, you’re still entirely too beautiful for your own good. Besides,” a corner of her mouth lifted, her eyes unbearably soft as they met his, “blue was always my favourite colour.”

_Beautiful._

The word hit him hard sending him scrabbling for his magic again, backing up a step as she approached, her hand reaching cautiously towards him. He felt too raw in this form, unused to the sensation of his own skin. The thought of her questing fingers tracing this stranger's body was too much for him. Snapping the spell back into effect he banished the monster back beneath his skin. Where it belonged.

“You are a foolish girl,” he muttered without much feeling, shoulders sagging with the weight of everything that had come to pass. “You should run while you have the chance.”

“And you’re still hella rude,” she shrugged, letting her hand fall to her side, “let a gal have a bit of autonomy why don’t you? I decide how I feel, no one else. And _I_ have absolutely no problem with how you look either way. Your _behaviour_ however leaves a lot to be desired.”

Her words chastened him. Suddenly ashamed of himself as he stood in the middle of her quiet apartment. She had welcomed him into her home, trusted him with her care, and this was how he behaved.

It was less than _princely_ to say the least.

“Forgive me,” he murmured, the words leaving him in less than a whisper. The corner of her mouth twitched, blue eyes crinkling at the corner in a shadow of understanding.

“You wanna order a pizza?” She asked suddenly, as if nothing had happened, “I don’t know about you but drama always makes me hungry, besides I’m pretty sure the leftovers in the fridge have developed sentience whilst I was gone…”

He followed her on instinct, heart in his throat as he trailed her like a lost child as she crossed into the tiny kitchenette.

“You’re not one of those weirdos who likes pineapple on their pizzas are you?” She asked, the words almost incomprehensible to him even in allspeak as she turned back to smile at him over her shoulder.

“I’ve never tried it.” He heard himself say, unwilling or able to turn away from her again now.

  
  
  



	20. Balls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heylo beautiful people!
> 
> First up a sincere apology, I had no idea the pineapple pizza discourse was so real 🤣 all of your tastes are valid and I appreciate you all!
> 
> Second thank you to the readers, commenters and of course my fantastic Beta RogueSareth - the fact y’all are still here putting up with me and this story is everything!
> 
> And thirdly... well, on with the show! 💜

 

There was nothing like pizza and a Netflix marathon to ease the tension in a room. She’d had to call the 24 hour place around the corner since it was so obnoxiously late at night, or early in the morning even, ordering one of just about everything so he could try it.

He’d grimaced at the first bite of the abomination known as _Hawaiian pizza,_ chewing thoughtfully before, with much ceremony, going back for another bite. And another. _Definite_ weirdo.

Still it was better than him having another breakdown. She didn’t know if she could deal with that.

It was easier like this, her on one end of the couch, him on the other, a half dozen pizza boxes crowding the coffee table in front of them as she played a steady stream of movies on the TV. Quiet, subdued even. All that sexual tension and identity drama washed away as they hung out like tired college students after a deadline. Neither one really sure what to say to the other as Darcy ran through her list of non-threatening fantasy movies. The Princess Bride, Harry Potter, a couple of episodes of Next Gen to round it out.

Anything to put them at ease again.

Anything to dull the anger that had awoken in the pit of her stomach. A slow burning ember that ate away at her even as they sat in mostly companionable silence.

How could they do this to him, his _family_? How could they let him live his life believing he was anything other than beautiful?

Because damn it he _was,_ no matter what shade his skin took. High cheekbones dappled in sapphire blue, intense eyes bleeding red instead of green. It didn’t make a difference, he was still _him_. Still infuriating, imperfect, incomparable Loki.

And she hated the fact he couldn’t see it, couldn’t stand to be in his own skin. So full of self hatred that he pushed everyone away before they could leave.

She recognised the urge all too well after all, it made her stomach ache as she curled deeper into the cushions. Eyelids dragging with the weight of the day.

Was it any wonder things had turned out like they had?

She knew she should go to bed but she couldn’t bring herself to move, she didn’t want to break the quiet spell they’d found themselves in. The memory of those frightened red eyes pulled at her as she slipped further and further from consciousness, head nodding against the back of the sofa as they drew her in. Sad. _Hopeful_. The scent of leather and forests and him…

The sound of screaming woke her just once, briefly, snorting in panic until she realised it was coming from the TV. Miss Trunchbull was pulling a kid around by her pigtails, which was weird cos she couldn’t remember putting Matilda on. She must have done though. Glancing over she watched Loki watch the movie, sleep already beckoning her back into the beyond as she tilted towards him.

He looked almost invested. It was kinda cute really.

The next time she awoke sunlight was streaming into the apartment, creeping beneath the blinds and bathing everything in its insistent glow. She was surprisingly comfortable given the lumpy nature of the couch. Her head was cushioned against something warm and firm, something that twitched as she burrowed deeper into it.

Oh. _Oh no._

Darcy froze, trying to keep from breathing entirely as she started to make sense of everything. Like the long limbs tangled around hers, holding her so close she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. The warm thump of someone else’s heartbeat against her ear, slow and steady _,_ their breath warm against the top of her head.

At what point exactly had she decided to cuddle up with Mr Personality Issues and how exactly would he feel about it when he woke up?

She risked raising her eyes, head tilting back slightly to find Loki far too close. All pale features with a tired smirk as he looked at her through lidded eyes.

“Um… hi,” she squeaked, brain deserting her entirely at finding him already awake and just as devastating as always. There was something almost _soft_ about sleep-rumpled Loki, a vulnerability that made her want to wake up like this way more often.

If he didn’t kill her for her impertinence. _Foolish girl_ that she was.

“Good morning,” he replied in a murmur, arms tightening ever so slightly around her waist and making her heart leap like a trained dolphin. He didn’t seem particularly vexed at her handsy-ness at least, “or afternoon even.”

“Afternoon?” She replied dumbly, whole attention fixed on the movement of his mouth and not at all on reality. Half convinced this was a dream, all traces of last night’s drama swept away in the sunlight.

“It’s almost six o’clock in your time” he tilted his head, fingers tracing lazily across her side, “you must have been tired.”

Oh yeah. _Definitely_ not vexed. Not at _all_. Relief washed through her, whatever break down he’d been going through seemed to have passed. He looked more like himself again. The teasing smirk and hooded eyes telling of a lightness she’d already begun to miss.

She was glad he was feeling better.

She was also about to spontaneously combust, heat spreading through her at his languorous touch as her trail of thought spiralled away from her completely. That was Loki alright, the great confuser of Darcy Lewis’s emotions and hormones.

“Yes,” she nodded breathlessly, “most definitely. Tired. So tir… wait.” Her eyes flew up, reality kicking down the door at last and smacking her in the face, “did you say six? Like _six pm_?”

“I believe so.”

“ _Shit_!” She wiggled loose from his grip, falling off the sofa with an undignified thud before hauling herself to her feet. Missing his warmth instantly, “we overslept! The party, it starts in like three hours and we haven’t even started getting ready. I need to print the invite, find something to wear, find _you_ something to wear, get some caffeine, curl my hair, print the invite…”

“You said that already,” he was in front her although she hadn’t registered him moving, bracing his hands against her shoulders, “breathe Darcy. We have time.”

“You don’t get it,” she replied miserably, unable to keep herself from leaning into him just a little, “You’re a dude. You can just roll up in that and a mask and be a total babe. _This_ ,” she gestured widely to her rumpled PJs and birds nest hair, “requires time and energy.”

And a fricking blow torch most likely.

“ _That,”_ he replied quietly, eyes flickering over her with an almost predatory gleam, “is perfection already.”

Fuck it she was going to kiss him again, thighs squeezing weakly as the heat from his gaze seemed to pool directly between them. All molten warmth and perfectly accented compliments in her stupid little apartment.

Damn. Wait. _No._

She pulled away sharply, blushing redder than a fire truck as she turned away. Morning breath was not sexy, even in the afternoon, and she _so_ did not need to be blowing it all over him and ruining the nice little truce they’d found themselves in.

“Yes well I don’t think bed head cuts it as a disguise,” she mumbled, trying not to breathe directly at him, or _look_ directly at him for that matter. Embarrassment beating hotly in her veins, “And the ex-mortal _really_ needs to go and brush her teeth.” And panic. A lot. “Not to mention figure out what to wear.”

“Leave that to me,” he called after her, unbearably perfect just as he was the sonuva… Frigga, Goddess of Fashion herself. Okay then, “I’m sure I can find us something _appropriate_.”

Magic sparked at his fingertips.

“Something classy please,” she yelled back at him as she dove towards the safety of the bathroom, “and no green, _or horns_!”

They _were_ supposed to be incognito after all.

  


—-

 

By the time they entered Stark’s ballroom Loki had almost forgotten the turmoil of the night before, the way he had snapped in two from little more than a change in the wind. All the darkness and self hatred he tried to keep hidden rushing to the surface, bleeding like tar from him as he’d tried to force her away.

He should have known better, Darcy Lewis was fearless. She hadn’t run from him, foolish girl that she was, the revulsion he had sought missing from her features entirely. Replaced by a fascination that was somehow just as terrifying.

And _wonderful._

He clung to it even as he shoved the rest away, focusing on her warmth as he banished his own darkness. The past was the past, this was now and this was _good._

There would be no more pushing Darcy Lewis away. Not after last night when she’d so willingly crawled into his arms, nuzzling her head into his shoulder and grumbling when he moved too much.

She _trusted_ him.

Somehow so easy in his company despite everything he’d done, purposefully vulnerable even though knew his crimes.

She’d seen his hidden darkness, and it hadn’t shaken her a bit.

It changed things. Made him dream of half forgotten stories he’d never paid much attention to before, the legend of the Jötunn warrior maiden who bonded with a Kree Prince. Lovers found in the coldest places. Not to mention the less-than-secret affairs of certain Jötunn courtiers and their foreign mistresses. It made him imagine that perhaps cold hearts could be wanted too, that even monsters might find their match.

Not that he could imagine Darcy Lewis as _any_ man’s mistress or courtesan of course, no matter how lofty his title. No, she had been born for more, a consort.

A _Queen_.

Perhaps that was why he’d conjured up the costumes he had, adhering to her guidelines insofar as there was no trace of green or horns _._

She’d never said anything about _crowns_ however.

Her gown was a blue so deep it was almost black. The colouring made her skin moon-pale in contrast, highlighting the diamonds and silver thread that sprawled across the fabric in foreign constellations. Cinched tight around her waist and flowing from her shoulders in a cape as fine as spider silk.

He had made her the Queen of the Heavens and wreathed her head in stars.

His own crown sat heavy on his head, King and Queen. A matching pair. He didn’t even try to explain his choice away to himself, content to simply be in the moment. With her.

If only he didn’t have to share her with _quite_ so many others it might have been perfect.

It was understandable, she was a goddess moving amongst mortals. Alive under the flashing lights as she pushed through the crowd, every smile a benediction, every laugh a wicked promise.

He couldn’t blame them for looking at her. They _should_ look at her, she deserved to be acknowledged. Admired. But that didn’t stop the seed of jealousy rooted in his lungs from growing vines. His fingers flexed on instinct, little curses flying when anyone looked too long, too _leeringly._ Anyone taking a step towards her found themselves suddenly inflicted with numb legs, anyone whose gaze lingered where it shouldn’t became temporarily blinded.

He was so engrossed in his work it took him a full three minutes to realise he wasn’t the only one casting, gold flickered from Darcy’s fingertips as she walked. A subtle little gesture every few steps or so.

“What are you doing?” He slid closer to her to be heard over the pounding of the music, bewitched by every shift and sway of her hips as she moved through the crowd.

“Huh?” She looked back, almost stumbling over the hem of her dress.

He caught her easily, leaning into her heat as he pulled her hand up between them. Raising an eyebrow at the faint traces of gold still dancing around her fingertips.

“ _What_ are you doing?” He repeated, mouth dropping down to her ear.

“Ah, yeah that,” she blushed in the strobing lights, a wry smile twitching at her cheek as she looked up at him through her lashes, “I just figured people shouldn’t be looking too much at you - _us._ Looking at us, I’m just uh… distracting them.”

His heart caught, a vicious pulse of longing that had him moving before he thought better of it. Pulling her into an alcove at the edge of the room.

“Oh are you now?” He kept his head lowered towards her, facing her in the half-hushed little space. The leafy ferns on either side of them doing little to muffle the music or the incessant pounding of his pulse, “and how exactly are you doing that?”

“Just y’know…” her breath hitched, voice low and husky as she tilted towards him, “a bit of super sour flavouring in their drinks, a light pinch to make them look in the opposite direction, little things.”

“Such chaos,” he whispered against the shell of her ear, inhaling the sweetness of her hair. The same honeyed fragrance he drowned in every night in his dreams.

“Hmm,” she murmured, tapping her fingers against his chest, “just a touch of _mischief_.”

The world moved around them, the bass pounding up through their feet as the mortals drank and danced with wild abandon. Cavorting about in every colour and costume imaginable.

He barely noticed it, unable to think of anything but her.

“You are exquisite, Darcy Lewis,” he heard himself say, fingers playing over the curve of her waist. Barely brushing the diamonds embedded in the silk.

“And you are far too smooth,” she grinned, eyes bright as any star as she looked up at him, “how many hearts have you broken with that line?”

“It is not a line but a fact,” he said quietly, _meaningfully_ , fighting the urge to pull her closer even now, “and besides, there are few in all the realms who’d willingly give me their heart, to break or otherwise.”

“They’re idiots,” she said with absolute feeling, mouth parting if she hadn’t meant the words to slip out. She covered the expression quickly with a casual shrug, “I mean, some things are worth the risk, right?”

“Yes,” he agreed, anticipation rubbing like velvet along his spine, “I believe they are.”

 _She_ was worth the risk.

Electricity crackled beneath his skin, a delicious tension he couldn’t break anymore than he could break her gaze as she looked up at him.

“So I was thinking,” her teeth worked at her lip as she paused, reaching up to smooth her hands over the folds of his surcoat. Just above his heart. “we should probably make out right now. For... reasons.”

He frowned, confusion clouding his senses with the smell of her perfume, “you wish to leave?”

Even in this dim light he could see her colour heighten, cheeks dimpling as she smiled, “that’s uh… that’s not what _‘make out’_ means.”

“What does it mean?”

“This.”

Thought slipped him entirely as she rose up on her tiptoes, hands tightening in his tunic as she pressed her mouth to his. Kissing him eagerly, _hungrily,_ her hands sliding up into his hair and tugging.

He couldn’t restrain the groan that echoed up inside him, clutching hold of her hips and dragging her tight against him. She was a drug and a balm all at once, an oasis to a man dying of thirst.

It wasn’t enough. She pulled harder at him, the feeling rushing straight from his scalp to his groin as she tasted him. Her tongue making wicked promises with every stroke and suck of his, ones he would give his soul to see completed.

The whole mission could burn as far as he was concerned, if only he could have another moment of her.

He had to force himself not to go after her when she pulled away at last, the sound of her panting breath sweeter than any symphony any orchestra could play.

“Well?” She asked, her lips ripe and wet with his kiss _,_ “thoughts?”

Heat roared through him, barely constrained as he tightened his hands against the swell of her hips and growled, “I think if you kiss me like that again and I may well ravish you in front of this entire room.”

Her breath hitched, throat working as she looked up at him with pupils so swollen there was only a memory of blue around them.

“Promises promises.” She husked, dragging the edge of her fingernail down the side of his neck and leaving fireworks in her wake.

He didn’t have time to act, to make good on his words and devastate her with his hunger before the distant sound of a clock striking pulled her attention away. Her palm held flat to his chest as she tilted her head towards the noise.

“ _Fuck,”_ she muttered with such abject disappointment it caught him off guard, “I can’t believe I’m saying this but that’s the shift change, we gotta go.”

He would have stopped time itself if it had been in his power to do so, erased the notion of it entirely and lived forever in that moment. Instead he pulled back, tense with need as he followed silently where she led.

His desire could wait for a little while at least. An hour maybe. Two at the absolute most.

  
  
  



	21. Getting In (To The System, Obvs.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING GENTLE READERS!!! Here be smut my friends, if that’s not something you’re into stop reading when they get to the elevator and skip straight to the next chapter 💜 
> 
> However, if you’re into a little bit of Resolved Sexual Tension read on my lovelies, read onnnnn!

 

Was saving the universe really _that_ important?

Darcy was seriously wondering.

Like, no one even knew where Thanos was or what he was up to, or even if the sceptre was still on Earth for that matter. This whole thing could be one giant wild goose chase.

Surely there were more important things in life than all this superhero crap?

Important things like say, going back to that moment when Loki admitted he wanted to ravish her in that growly voice of his in the middle of the ballroom and, God help her, she’d nearly climbed him like a tree. All those long weeks of simmering sexual tension had been about to boil over at last, any _sane_ person would have abandoned the plan completely in favour of jumping him there and then.

Unfortunately it seemed that Darcy Lewis was _not_ a sane person.

That was why she was hunched over a computer in the personnel office on floor thirteen of Stark Tower trying to focus every last lust-addled brain cell she had back on the task at hand.

They’d made it to the office without incident, no thanks to her, Loki’s spells the only thing keeping them from being caught as she’d bumbled down identikit white corridors. Her brain suffering from oxygen deprivation due to severe sexual arousal. She’d nearly gone into the wrong room twice, barely ducking out of the way in time when a guard came from the other direction.

She was normally on top of this stuff, knowing from an early age that confidence and quick thinking could get her in just about anywhere. Right now the only thing she was on top of was a thirst-induced mental breakdown.

But there was no use focusing on that, no use at all, they were here now after all. Safe and sound with all the technology she needed to get this hack done and get them on their merry way. She just needed to _hurry the fuck up_ and get it over with.

She bit down on her tongue, scowling as she forced herself to focus on her work. This was _so_ not the time to be getting sloppy, not with the might of Tony Stark’s security system all around them and who knew how many Avengers currently in residence.

Quick and clean. Get in, get the data, get out, get laid. _Hopefully_.

Sucking her teeth she let the code wash over her, the fire in her blood finally cooling as she fell into the familiar binary of it. Yeses and no’s, logical pathways and carefully hidden secrets.

It had its own simplicity hidden in the complex encryption, one she could chase. One she could focus on. And old friend that seemed to welcome her back with open arms as she pressed into Shield’s systems at last, gaining access easier than anytime before as her fingers flew across the keys.

It was like magic.

Hell, maybe it _was_ magic.

Think, want, do. She fell back on the mantra, as familiar as breathing to her now as she slipped into the network, circumnavigating the security protocols and diving deeper still. It was almost enough to make her forget the six feet something of delicious smouldering god standing at her shoulder.

_Almost._

Right, secret sceptre facility. If she were a paranoid super spy organisation where would she hide it? Level six access? Seven? Under some kooky code name someone in HR thought was just soooo funny.

Like, ‘ _Operation Powerstaff.’_

She swallowed a groan, surely it couldn’t be that obvious? _Could_ it?

Retreating to the utility records she cross referenced the facility’s power use with that of the Mojave facility back when it housed the Tesseract. Infinity Stone fuckery probably had a similar effect after all, right?

Now if she could just narrow down the address...

The sound of a keycard in the lock outside startled her, sending her scrabbling to erase the evidence of her hack on instinct. Fingers flying over the keys as panic lanced through her like a knife.

“What do we do?” She whispered, turning to Loki as the screen went black. The lock beeped again, the red light flashing. It would be _seconds_ before they tried again. Before they succeeded.

Before they were caught her and-

“Do you trust me?” His hands were on her waist, the rattle of the door handle echoing in her skull as she nodded. The door beeped a third time.

She didn’t hear it open, the air rushing from her lungs as he hauled her onto the desk. Pushing between her legs and kissing her with a fire that left her gasping.

She arched into him, body reacting on instinct as he plundered her mouth. His palm burnt through the slick fabric of her dress, branding her thigh as his other hand moulded against her jaw. Firm and absolutely demanding. She moaned shamelessly, forgetting herself entirely in the sudden onslaught of desire.

“ _Hey!”_ The shout came from a million miles away, her head spinning as Loki pulled back just a fraction and left her panting, “what are you doing here?”

He turned away, face a mask of shock as Darcy followed his gaze. There was an office worker in the doorway, his laminated pass slack in his hand as he gaped at them.

Oh yeah. _That_.

“Sorry,” Loki said voice slurring slightly, his body was still pressed between her thighs. Warm and hard and utterly divine, “We were just - just looking for a little… _privacy_. The door was open.”

“Yeah well save it for when you get home, this ain’t a hotel buddy! Go on!” The man replied, face beat red as he waved at them, muttering in an undertone, “Fucking horny drunks.”

Darcy didn’t have to fake the unsteadiness in her legs as Loki helped her stand, chest flushed as she leaned against him. She tucked her face into his side as he led her quickly from the room.

“Good job,” she said when they were clear, pulling back a little and nodding awkwardly as they headed for the elevator, “quick thinking.”

“Not really,” he shrugged, his grip on her waist tightening, “I've been picturing doing that since we got here. Did you get what you need?”

“Not even close,” she muttered, libido screaming at her as they hightailed it down the hallway, “oh you mean the Sceptre? Yeah, I got… I got an address on it.”

“What’s next then?”

“Well… well we can’t really do anything til the morning right?” She met his gaze, heart thundering so loudly she was amazed the whole tower couldn’t hear it, “Probably best if we just go back to the apartment…. y’know… _rest up._ ”

She watched him closely, throat tightening as she waited for his reaction. To see if he’d get the insinuation, if he’d-

“Hmm an excellent idea,” he said, leaning closer as the elevator doors pinged open, “aside from the resting.”

_Oh hells yes._

 

—-

 

Darcy Lewis deserved to be properly seduced.

She deserved to be teased and taunted with pleasure, the slow building flame of her desire stoked to an inferno before Loki ever even _touched_ her. Instead he was pawing at her like a desperate youth, the fall of his britches uncomfortably tight as he struggled for more, _now._ Another kiss, another touch, another precious inch of skin exposed to his lascivious tongue.

He couldn’t quite recall how they’d got back to her apartment, the journey a hazy blur of heated kisses and desperate groans in the back of a taxi. The delightful squeak of indignation she’d made as he’d slung her over his shoulder and bounded up the stairs to her door three at a time. The lock falling to his magic as they’d stumbled in.

Not that the journey mattered, they were here now. That was the really important thing.

That and the way she was pressing into him, stretched up as far as she could reach as he devoured every inch she would accede to him.

Sex had always been a means to an end to him, another weapon in his arsenal. An enjoyable one sometimes but a weapon nevertheless, a way to further whatever cause he was pressing, to persuade and sway. But there was no mission here, no battle to avert or terms to be negotiated, it was just them, this, _desire._

She gasped and he forced himself to slow, to breathe, drowning in the taste of her.

“Should you wish to stop-”

“You’ll be the first to know,” she grinned against his mouth, her crown was crooked, mask abandoned with his somewhere in the in between as she tugged at his shirt. “Right now I just want you to take your clothes off. Pretty please.”

“Your wish is my command,” he bit softly at the swell of her lip as he took over undoing the fastenings at his neck, pulling the tunic over his head between eager kisses and almost dislodging his own crown.

She pulled back, hands splaying against his chest as she stared shamelessly at him. For a moment he felt almost uncomfortable, vulnerable beneath her eyes. As if at any moment she might remember what lurked beneath his skin and turn tail and run.

“ _Damn,”_ she whistled instead, fingertips tracing paths of fire up and down his torso, “now that’s what I’m talking about.”

She leant forward, pink tongue snaking out to taste his skin. Heat seared into him, hips jerking as she licked a wide stripe across his collarbone, warm lips fastening over his skin and _sucking._

If she kept that up he’d be done before they ever made it to her bedroom.

“Fairs fair,” he caught her wrists, pulling her back as he tried desperately to control himself. To think of something other than her and her clever mouth before it was too late, “I showed you mine.”

“Mmm I suppose you did,” she tilted her head, innocence incarnate with her kiss-swollen lips and dark gaze, “but the problem is I have no idea how to get this thing off,” she looked up at him through her lashes, “I don’t suppose you could help a girl out, could you?”

He answered in a growl, magic flaring at his fingertips. One touch and her dress was pooling on the floor in a puddle of inky blue silk. He eyed her hungrily, _desperately,_ memorising every inch of exposed skin as she stepped from it like a goddess emerging from the waves. A goddess he would take great delight in worshipping.

At _length_.

 

—-

 

Holy shit.

It was impossible _not_ to feel sexy with him looking at her like that, like she was the most exquisite piece of art he’d ever seen. Art he _really_ wanted to bone. Heat flushed through her every place his hooded eyes touched her, raking his gaze over her body like an extra set of hands.

Not that he needed them, he was getting her damn close with the pair he had, them and his voice and his mouth and…

Yup. She had no complaints so far.

“Well?” She teased, uncharacteristically bold for someone whose knees had achieved full jelly status, “are you just going to look or do you intend to do something about this?”

She gestured to herself, hips swaying as she slipped back into his orbit. Giving herself a quick mental high five for wearing her good black panties with the lace, no holes in them or anything.

Not that she intended to keep them on for much longer.

His hand caught in her hair, a sweet rush of pleasure-pain tingling through her as he tugged _,_ pulling her head aside and sinking his mouth against her neck. She fought not to squirm, breath leaving her in a rush as he pressed a hot line of kisses to the sensitive skin of her throat. Soft lips and sharp teeth as he teased her.

“Like this?” He asked against her pulse, sucking lightly at her as his other hand kneaded the soft flesh of her rear. Her breasts flush against his chest, his hardness and her softness _._ She could hardly think through it.

“ _Hell yes,”_ she gasped, barely recognising the sound of her own voice. Strangled and breathy with need. She felt him laugh into the join where her neck met her shoulder, stubbornness and desire mixing in her veins and making her draw away. “Funny, is it?”

Planting her hands firmly against his chest she pushed him back. Walking him away from her with every deliberate step. He watched her warily even as he followed blindly where she led, his mouth reddened with her kisses, eyes half wild as she shoved him through her bedroom door.

His knees hit the edge of the bed and she shoved him down, straddling his hips and feeling him pressed hard and ready against her. She basked in it, head tilting forward as she circled her hips slowly against him, heat burning through the thin lace and fabric. Making her dizzy with the knowledge that _she’d_ done this to him.

His eyes were fixed on her, heavy against the place their bodies met as she worked herself against him.

“Still laughing?” She asked breathlessly, pulling his chin up and forcing him to look at her. His Adam’s apple bobbed, working hard as he swallowed.

“ _Darcy-”_

She’d never heard her name said like that before, with such utter reverence and desperation. A prayer in an unfamiliar tongue.

“Better,” grinning she dropped her hands to his hips, toying with his waistband. Slipping her fingers lazily underneath to trace the hidden skin beneath and feeling him tense _._ “Much better. Although… still over dressed.”

Magic sparked inside her, spiralling through her in a golden wave. She thought about him with his pants off, she _wanted_ his pants off, so off... they... came. She did away with hers too for good measure, as he said, it was only fair.

The sensation of skin against skin nearly toppled her, so did the _sound_ he made. Then his hand had slipped between her thighs and she forgot her own name, “ _oh god!”_

His mouth brushed her shoulder, sucking a line of hot kisses into her tensing flesh, “more specific please,” he rasped, “ _which_ god?”

“You’re such an egoti- _oh!_ ” this thumb found her clit, circling it slowly, teasingly. She tipped forward with a gasp, hands digging into his shoulder hard enough to leave marks, “ _fuck_ , _Loki!”_

“ _Better_ ,” he teased her, doing it again, and again, lips moving tauntingly over the overly-sensitive skin of her breast as lightning streaked across her vision. So close to edge she could barely breathe, “say it again.”

He bit down, teeth pulling at the slick peak of her nipple as his fingers worked her relentlessly. It was too much, too _good_ , she was helpless to refuse. “ _Loki!”_

 

—-

 

He could have spent forever listening to the sound of his name on her lips, sweeter than any prayer. Any pleading. Indulging in her every gasp and groan as he toyed with her, tracing sigils into her wet heat. _Passion. Pleasure. Eternity._

“Loki, I-” Her head rolled back, sharp nails digging hard enough to draw blood as she came apart above him with a gasp.

He drank in the sight of her, the weight of her thighs shaking against his, the lazy thrust of her hips as she rode out her pleasure. She opened her eyes, forehead pressed to his as she panted his name again.

The need in him was getting more than he could bear, pleasure teetering on the edge of pain at the feeling of her brushing against his aching cock. Warm and wet and so very ready for him.

“More?” He asked, jaw clenching as he stayed his hips. Pressing himself into the softness of her thigh, unwilling to venture deeper without her permission.

She smiled, wickedness catching on her face as she rocked against him, her voice husky, “ _More_. I want you, Loki, _all_ of you. Pretty pretty pretty... _please_.”

Permission granted he let go of his control entirely, pulling her down beneath him on the mattress. Her sheets smelt like lavender, like sweat and sex and perfume. She laughed as he held himself above her, the sound turning into a throaty moan as he pressed himself into her slick heat, his heart stuttering as he sank into her at last.

She was Valhalla welcoming him home, her body arching against him as he drove into her.

It was more than he could bear. He bit his tongue, hissing in pleasure as she surged desperately against him. Eager and willing for more.

“There - yes, Loki - fuck that’s good.” She bucked against him, her body tightening around him as she took him deep inside her. Her words pushing him faster, harder.

He was teetering on the edge and they’d barely begun. He tried to slow himself, but it was no use, the urge was too strong, too _primal_.

“ _Darcy-”_ he groaned, fire roaring in his veins as the delicious tension grew. Snapping low in his belly with each desperate stroke. Skin slapping against skin as he tasted the salt of her throat. Swallowing her moans like the finest nectar.

“Don’t stop,” she begged, demanding and pleading all at once as she met his every thrust, “please god, don’t stop.”

He wouldn’t. Not now, not when he was so close. This was completion. This was peace. This was everything he’d searched for for longer than he knew he’d been looking.

She cried out, head thrown back in reckless abandon as pleasure painted her features. Her body twisting and tensing, tightening around him as she peaked again. Urging him on with every desperate groan as he drove into her.

He couldn’t restrain it any more. He didn’t want too. The pleasure burnt through him like lightning, obliterating everything else as he sheathed himself inside her fully. Stars burst behind his eyes, body shaking as it spilled out of him in waves.

Shuddering he collapsed against her, face buried in her hair as he struggled for breath. For thought. His whole body pulsing with sensation in time with each unsteady heartbeat as he circled slowly back towards earth.

She was grinning, he could feel her smile, cheek pressed against his neck as she patted his shoulder and mumbled, “Good job team.”

He laughed despite himself, light and heavy all at once as he hauled himself off her. Using the last of his strength to pull her into his side, as if any space between them might break the moment they’d created. The spell he’d stumbled into of a life he didn’t deserve.

He couldn’t allow that, not now. Now he’d had a taste of her he would never let her go again.

 

 


	22. Ding Dong - Avon Calling!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My usual forever thanks to you beautiful people! Guess we better start actually getting into a plot or something now huh?

 

 

Darcy woke up slowly, every inch of her aching with languid pleasure. Light drifted softly under the curtain, the air deliciously chilled against her skin as she curled deeper into the sheets. Into the body lying next to her.

Comfort thy name was Loki.

She hummed happily in her throat, perching her chin on his shoulder so she could better look at him in the morning light. He was even more devastating than usual, his eyelashes black smudges against his cheeks as he slumbered next to her. He looked relaxed, _content_ even.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked without opening his eyes.

“Obvs,” she grinned shamelessly, “Do you even know what you’ve done to me?”

“Pleasured you thoroughly, I hope?” He asked, green eyes opening at last, pinning her in place with a smirk.

“ _Exactly,”_ she tried to glare at him and failed, entirely too satisfied even to pretend, “you have just effectively ruined sex for me with mortal men. You utter bastard.”

Several times over. After they’d gotten their breath back they’d gone back in for round two, and three, and then there was that time he did that thing with his fingers where she’d _literally_ felt the world shift beneath her.

Damn him.

He grinned, smugness practically radiating off him as he pulled her tighter against his chest, “Good. I don’t share.”

Ah yes. _Sharing_. That reminded her.

“Hmm, about that,” biting her lip she looked up at him, hoping that what she had to say wouldn’t spoil the moment. It was a pretty great moment after all, “This was epic but I don’t share either. If this… whatever _it_ is… well, if you want it to be more than a one night kinda deal you’re gonna have to be okay with that. I’m not going to be one of many, Loki.”

“You could never be,” he caught her hand, drawing it to his mouth and kissing her palm, “only a fool would seek out others when he had your affection. I am no fool, Darcy Lewis.” Her heart fluttered stupidly at the almost-chaste brush of his lips against her skin. Making her blush more than even his most obscenely delicious attentions from the night before. “It would be an honour to court you.”

“Smooth talker,” she wiggled closer, tapping the end of his nose with her finger and laughing when he snapped at it, teeth grazing her skin, “I know now why they call you silver tongue.

“Oh no, I don’t think you do,” his eyes darkened, tongue snaking out to taste her, sucking her finger into his sinful lips.

“Mmm,” she squirmed against him, breath catching at the heat of his tongue swirling over her fingertip in a lewd promise, “why don’t you show me then?”

He was on top of her in a second, her hands clenching at his shoulders as he settled himself easily over her. His hair a dark curtain protecting them from the rest of the world.

“As my lady commands.”

Her heart stuttered, heat rising like the tide as he sank slowly down her body. Pressing lingering kisses against the corner of her jaw, her neck, her chest, a tantalising slow trail of pleasure as she writhed beneath him. Breathless and desperate as he held her in delicious anticipation, inching closer and closer and-

“Darcy? Are you home?”

_Oh shit._

“Jane!” She yelped, too late to act as Jane appeared in her open bedroom doorway, Thor hot on her heels.

She _really_ should have closed that.

“ _Jesus_!” Jane squeaked at the exact same moment Thor shouted “ _Loki_!” Getting a good theological spread going as Darcy wished the bed would swallow her whole. Her hands clenched white against Loki’s shoulders as he froze just above her navel.

“ _Out!”_ He roared, turning with a look so fearsome it made her stomach squeeze. Her head ready to explode from the amount of blood rushing to it.

Jane quick turned, dragging Thor with her, his hand mercifully shoved over his eyes. The door slammed shut without them ever touching it.

Silence reigned, the only sound the thundering of her heartbeat as they stared at the closed door for a long second.

“Whoops.” Darcy said into the stillness, slumping down into the pillows with a breathless cackle. “That’s gonna be awkward.”

Loki turned to look at her, the darkness draining from his features. He pressed his forehead against her ribs, exhaling in a shuddering breath before he flopped down beside her.

“Yes,” he said to the ceiling, “I rather imagine it will be.”

 

—-

 

They weren’t wrong.

He barely had time to register the cloying tension in the cramped little main room before a hand was descending on his shoulder. Thor yanking him bodily from the apartment before he had time to react.

“If you could excuse us a moment, good ladies,” Thor shouted, the door slamming behind them as Loki was hauled into the corridor beyond.

“What is the meaning of this?” He hissed as he wrenched himself free. Pulling his knives from the inbetween on instinct, wary and on edge as anger thrummed through him.

Thor had already interrupted a sacred moment, breaking a contentment he had not felt in an eon, and now it seemed he wished to add injury to insult. _Fool._

“How dare you defile the Lady Darcy so,” Thor whispered, the words somehow louder than his shout had been. His great square brow creased like an accordian as he glared red-faced at Loki, “she is not some painted harlot you can buy for a smile and a silver coin! You claim not to care for her and then manipulate her into your bed! How low have you sunk, brother?”

“There was no _manipulation_ required,” he spat through gritted teeth, livid that Thor would dare try to sully something so _right_. The words rubbed into him like salt into a wound, stinging deeper than he wished to acknowledge, “Although it is good to see your opinion of me is as low as ever. I can hardly claim to be surprised.”

“How can it be any higher when you refuse to let me raise it?” Thor threw his hands up, nearly knocking a nearby light fixture from the wall, “You will not speak to me, not even to trust me with the basest level your confidence. _Thanos_ , New York, you never said a word.”

“ _How could I?”_ He heard himself roar, half-scabbed wounds tearing open anew at this fresh onslaught, “who would believe Loki Laufeyson? Who could think I got anything other than what I so rightly _deserved,_ too soiled even for the sweet oblivion of death I so desperately craved!”

His tongue caught between his teeth, twisted and forked as he struggled to control himself against the outburst. Wanting to snatch the words back, seal them up inside himself to rot and spit curses at his brother instead. To forget that moment of bleak inevitability on the bridge’s edge where he would have rather claimed death then his own brothers hand.

Anything but to live as he was. Monster. Murderer.

“But you did not deserve it,” Thor said with clumsy simplicity, sending Loki’s head shooting up from the gloom that threatened to swallow him whole,  “no matter your sins, you did not deserve it. And I apologise. brother, if I ever made you feel like you did.”

He hesitated, it was a trap. It had to be. A cruel joke or perhaps just abject _idiocy._

“How can you call me that, still?” He asked quietly, jaw aching with tension as he slid his knives back into the space between worlds. They had never been brothers. They were master and shadow, princling and pauper.

“Blood is not what binds true family, Loki, it never has been.” Thor’s eyes warmed as he hesitantly reached out again, patting one giant hand against his shoulder. Loki flinched despite himself.

“Nor apparently is affection.” He shot back, falling back onto his sharp tongue for lack of any other reply. His head too full, too  _confused_ to dare press the issue further.

“Yes well,” Thor grinned like nothing had happened, like they were young still and the best of friends, “we have some things to work on perhaps. But… the Lady Darcy, brother, after what you said in the palace…”

Breathing deeply, Loki focused his attention anywhere other than the son of Odin.

“You need not concern yourself with her wellbeing,” he addressed the wall, “I can assure you of that. I intend to guard it as my own.”

Thor paused, Loki could _feel_ the way his eyes crinkled as he looked at him. The solemn, twitching smile in his voice as he said, “Then I know she is in safe hands indeed. But of course if you _should_ hurt her-”

“Yes yes,” Loki cut him off, turning sharply on his heel and heading back to the apartment, “I’m quite familiar with the threats, thank you.”

 

—-

 

“You… you and Loki you…”

Darcy sighed, unused to seeing her best-boss-friend so red faced and stammery. Brushing past her she turned the coffee maker on, the two of them suddenly alone in the apartment.  

Yup, this was awkward alright. Nothing for it but to tackle the situation head on.

“Boinked?” She offered brightly, changing out the filter, “Got busy with it? Made the beast with two backs?”

“ _Darcy!”_

“Jesus Jane, yes okay, we had sex.” She shrugged, the memory still tingling through her even now, “like _really_ good sex, I mean damn - you never told me Asgardians had so much stamina. If you hadn’t’ve barged in we might never have stopped.”

“Oh my god,” Jane wheezed, rubbing her face as Darcy turned back to grin at her, “you did not just say that. Were you safe at least?”

It was Darcy’s turn to blush, nearly dropping the mug she was holding, “sorry, _what_? _”_

“Were you safe?” Jane repeated patiently, gaze sharp as an arrow.

“Yes, okay? I drank some of that Moon Tea back on Asgard, it’s good for like a couple of years or something.”

Of course she’d only taken it because she didn’t wanna deal with periods in space, getting dicked down by a god was a happy accident. Besides, from what she’d read the natural Aesir birth rate was hella low unless they were actively _trying -_ it had to be or else it would be a population control nightmare.

“Oh, okay, good. That’s good” Jane sighed with relief, reaching forward to take the mugs from her and set them on the side. Taking over coffee making duties with a wave of her hand, “and it was all fully… consensual?”

“Of course! I didn’t use my magic powers to get into his pants if that’s what you’re thinking,” well technically she had used them to get him _out_ of his pants, but there was no point telling Jane that. “Just two fully consenting adults doing adult things together. Enthusiastically.”

“It wasn’t _your_ magic powers I was worried about.”

Darcy’s stomach dropped, a queasy feeling coating her throat like oil at the mumbled comment. She looked uneasily at her friend, she _really_ needed to nip that shit in the bud right now. It wasn’t right.

“Jane… look, don’t get me wrong, I love you for worrying about me. But he’s not like that,” she sucked in a deep breath, uncharacteristically serious as she met Jane’s eyes, willing her to understand, “and I wish you wouldn’t talk about him like he is, it’s unfair. I know he’s not perfect but I like him, _a lot,_ and I really want you to be okay with that.”

“Oh Darce,” abandoning her task, Jane turned to her, “I’m sorry. I can’t promise I’ll stop worrying but… but I _can_ promise I’ll give him a chance. Anyone important to you is important to me too. That being said... if he ever hurts you…”

Darcy smiled, reaching out to squeeze Jane’s hand, “I’ll give you the taser myself.”

The door handle rattled, the women pulling apart as the brothers Asgard strolled back in from their own friendly chat it seemed. Jeez, it was like having overprotective parents, which was _super_ novel actually. And nice. It would be nicer though if it didn’t so often come with the knee-jerk assumption that Loki was a moustache twirling villain and she a damsel tied to a train track.

“Coffee?” Jane offered brightly, making good on her promise even if there was still a faint shadow of wariness in her eyes, “Loki, how do you take it?”

“Oh uh… black, please.” He looked adorably taken aback, Darcy fought the urge to pinch him as she nudged the chair next to her with her foot, “thank you, Doctor Foster.”

“Jane, please, and you are… very welcome.”

The table was about a dozen sizes too small with the four of them sitting around it, absolutely awkward as they all nursed their individual beverages. Thor swapping the sugar and creamer back and forth with her like trading cards, his ears still bright red as he avoided her gaze.

Nothing like seeing your brother and your friend naked in bed together to set up a happy breakfast table.

“So…” Darcy clinked her spoon against her mug, “now we’re all here, I guess it’s time we think about going after the Sceptre, huh?”

“Yes,” Thor nodded quickly, seemingly as grateful to seize onto the topic as the rest of them, “We spoke to Heimdall, he has seen the location of that which we seek.”

“Way ahead of you bud, we got the coordinations for the facility in Pennsylvania.” Darcy said, “not to brag but I did some _pretty serious_ hacking last night.”

She only realised what she was saying when she heard the words. _Pennsylvania._ It hadn’t hit her before, too swept up in Loki and his kisses to care where they were going.

Only, only it wasn’t just another state.

It was darkness and guilt, it was everything she’d tried to forget and the fact that she’d apparently succeeded somehow only made it worse.

She had sworn she’d never go back there.

“Pennsylvania?” Thor repeated, “you must be mistaken, it is in the land of Sokovia. Fallen into the hands of enemies of this world.”

She should be horrified by the fact it had been taken. Sickened that even now it was being used by the bad guys for god only knew what kind of evil.

Instead she felt… _relieved._

 

—-

 

_Typical._

Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes at the admission of their failure. Earth’s mightiest heroes indeed.

Why, if he’d been in his right mind back in New York he could have… Loki bit off the thought. Holding his tongue.

Darcy was less stoic, her eyes widening, “It’s… it’s been stolen? I mean I hate to say it but I _totally_ called it. This is why Earth is so not the right place for this thing, who took it?”

“He said our _‘worlds-shield’_ had ‘ _been_   _compromised by a many headed enemy within,”’_ ” Foster sighed, rubbing a hand across her mouth.

“What? Of course he did,” Darcy scowled, “cos heaven forbid he speak in anything but a riddle! So world’s-Shield - that’s _Shield_ -Shield right? They’ve been infiltrated? Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Loki settled his arm across the back of her chair, thumb circling the tense muscles of her shoulder without conscious thought.

He was hardly surprised their supposed _peace_ keepers had been infiltrated, they’d been overstepping their mark for years it seemed. He remembered their reaction to the Tesseract all too well, the way they had immediately sought to make weapons from it.

Would the Mind Stone be any different to them?

It must have been easy to gain access to such violent, unchecked ambition.

“I will inform Stark,” Thor nodded, “together we shall mount an attack and reclaim the sceptre.”

That got Loki’s attention.

“ _Stark_? Have you lost what little mind you have?”

“What, no!” Darcy cut in right behind him, “we went out of our way to avoid getting him involved with this! We can handle it!”

“The Avengers are vital allies, Lady Darcy,” Thor had the gall to look affronted, “and honourable warriors.”

“They’re also so deep up Shield’s ass they can’t see daylight.”

Loki laughed despite himself, earning a dirty look from Thor. It wasn’t his fault, it was just she had such a charming way with words.

“I agree with Darcy,” Loki added, because he could, “the fewer people who know, the more likely we are to succeed.”

“We can’t break into a full on enemy stronghold by ourselves,” Foster interrupted, tapping her fingers against her mug,  “a Shield facility maybe, but not this. Not when we don’t even know what we’re up against, we aren’t surveillance experts Darce, _or_ warriors, we’re scientists.”

“Yes and also _magic.”_

“Is that enough?”

_Was it?_

He did not like the seed of doubt the doctor had planted, unwilling to risk Darcy’s life so soon after realising its worth.

“Okay what about this…” Darcy was chewing on her lip, a furrow forming between her brows that his fingers itched to smooth out, “no Shield, _no_ Shield-agents, just Stark and _maybe_ some non-Shield based back up?”

She looked to him, seeking his approval first. He hesitated, weighing up her words even as he longed to bat them away. He, more than most, knew the value of allies on a battlefield. Of strength in numbers, even fights and the importance of having extra bodies to help distract or overpower the enemy.

Strategy was an art form to him.

But, that said, he knew the value of working alone too, as he had always done in his heart of hearts. There was _danger_ in numbers after all, an ever present threat of betrayal or backstabbing. The chance of plans going astray and missions changing.

Particularly when those _allies_ were the Avengers and he their particular favourite friend. He did not trust them, but then he didn’t trust anyone...

Well, almost anyone.

“I can see the value of allies in this mission,” he said carefully, “but I am still uncertain of their reliability. Besides... they are hardly likely to relish the opportunity to work with me.”

“Can you not disguise yourself, brother?” Thor cut in, subtle as a boulder.

“Yes,” he sighed, “I suppose I can.”

It seemed almost fitting in a way, he, who had always longed to play the saviour, could no longer do so even if he wanted too. His face had become a symbol of darkness, of monstrous intent.

As if his true form had seeped through and corrupted even that.

“That’s not fair,” Darcy spoke into the lingering pause, her eyes bright and uncompromising as they met his, “you’re putting your life at risk, you deserve to be acknowledged for it.”

“It’s for the best,” He swallowed his own feelings on the matter, twining his fingers in the softness of her hair where it tumbled down her back, “for now at least. I’m sure there will be time for glory later.”

It was an easy lie. His name had long since been struck off Valhalla’s ledger.

“Very well,” Thor boomed, rising to his feet and breaking the moment like ice over a frozen lake, “let us call upon the man of iron and begin this quest in earnest.”

And to think, the day had started so well.

  



	23. How’d We Get Up Here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day another chapter! I really hope you enjoy this new little direction we’re going down atm 💜 (oh btw since I got a few questions - this time line is happening a year or two before the events of AOU, just for clarity!)
> 
> Thank you as always to the readers, commenters, lovely RogueSareth for beta’ing, and the incomparable wordstress Densehumboldt for holding my hand and stopping me from jumping from any windows 💜

 

Darcy had never been this high up before.

Her pass hadn’t let her past the Stark science level, this was the _penthouse_. She couldn’t look away from the view. The windows stretched from floor to ceiling, an entire wall of glass with the city spread out below like a toy.

She wondered what it had looked like the last time Loki was here, with Thanos in his skull and destruction raining down from the heavens. Had he felt hatred then? Despair? _Guilt?_

What was he feeling now?

“Are you alright?” His voice hummed softly in her ear, her breath catching as she turned away at last. Looking up into familiar features and wishing she could ask, wishing the rest of the world could see him as she did.

He wasn’t perfect, not by a long stretch, but he deserved to be seen for _all_ of who he was, not just his darkest moments.

“Are _you_ alright?” She murmured back, twisting her fingers in his and smiling when he didn’t pull away from her, “I know this can’t be easy for you.”

He hesitated, something typically unreadable passing over his features before his lip quirked. He might even have answered her if Tony hadn’t chosen that exact moment to show up, stepping out of the elevator, pad in hand.

“Stark!” Thor boomed, crossing the room with his arms outstretched, “Good friend, a blessed greeting to you!”

“Point break!” Stark grinned before wincing at the Asgardian’s embrace. “What brings you and your friends here? Doc, Glasses, good to see you’re still alive after the apple incident, uh… new guy.”

“This is Lo-” Thor’s eyes widened, stumbling over his words as Darcy experienced what could only be described as a full body wince.

“Locutus Friggson,” she finished quickly, “Asgardian super magician and strategist, and uh… kinda my boyfriend. We met in... space.”

Good cover, Darce. Nice one.

“A pleasure, Mr Stark,” Loki’s face didn’t twitch, but his eyes said it all. Wariness and condescension glowing in equal measure as he sized up his enemy.

No, not enemy, not anymore. Although she doubted the two would ever be friends.

“I feel like I’ve heard that name before,” Tony took another step closer, peering at him from far too close. “Locutus, huh?”

Oh shit. She winced again, realising with a start she’d gone and named him after a Star Trek villain. _Fantastic_. In her defence though, they had just watched it the other day, and besides there weren’t that many names beginning with ‘Lo,’ right? What else was she supposed to call him? _Loren? Lobert?_

 _Locust_?

“A popular one on Asgard,” Loki met Stark’s gaze evenly, as calm outwardly as she was freaking out inwardly, “here too perhaps?”

“Nah,” he turned back to Thor, his attention skipping away like a stone and letting Darcy breathe again. Her knees sagging just a tiny bit, not that she’d ever admit it, “well come on then - what’s the deal, Blondie? Big evil on the rise? World under threat? Party you wanna invite me too?”

“It is a matter of some… delicacy,” Thor said, gaze sliding around the room, “something not to be overheard.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up, lips pursing as he looked around at them more carefully this time. She knew that look, the frank assessment in it, Tony might act like a flippant teenager but it didn’t fool her.

She’d never been one to underestimate others.

“Alright then. Jarvis, engage Church Mouse Protocol.”

“Protocol engaged, sir,” came the polite British voice from above them, “noise cancellation in full effect and all surveillance frequencies jammed.”

“Good enough?” Tony asked, gesturing them to sit at the bar.

Darcy hopped up on a stool, Loki standing sentinel beside her. His hand still warm and safe in hers as he leant back against the countertop. He seemed casual but she could see the sharpness in his gaze as his eyes drifted back and forth across the room. Always watching, always _ready._

“Shield has been compromised.” Thor said without preamble, his bluntness setting Tony back a step as he poured a fifth of scotch. Darcy winced, he really just cut right to the chase there didn’t he.

“You… wait… _what?”_

“Shield,” Darcy took over quickly, hoping to be a little more articulate than the God of Thunder, “their organisation has been infiltrated, compromised by an enemy from within their own ranks. The all seeing eye guy on Asgard… all saw it. They can’t be trusted anymore.”

“Heimdall.” Jane added solemnly, “he called them the _‘many headed enemy_ ,’ they’ve taken the Sceptre from under Shields nose and are using it for god knows what. We’re here to retrieve it.”

“It is no longer safe under Earth’s protection,” Thor placed one meaty hand on Stark’s shoulder and nodded, “and we have been charged with its extraction and future safe keeping.”

“Okay I’m gonna need a solid minute here,” Tony dragged his fingers through his hair, shrugging Thor’s hand off as he paced away from them, “or two. Yeah, at least two. I’ve hacked Shield plenty of times, if someone was attacking them…”

“That’s just it,” Darcy interrupted, his attention fixing back on her like a laser pointer, “they’re not attacking Shield, they _are_ Shield.”

“So you say,” he muttered turning away dismissively. She felt Loki tense beside her and squeezed his hand tightly. There was no time to get offended with so much on the line, “I mean come on, _many headed enemy,_ what does that even mean? Sounds like some made up creature if you ask me, a three headed dog or a…”

Tony stopped dead, all of the colour draining from his face as he stared unseeing into the middle distance. Darcy felt her stomach sink, she’d never seen him look worried before.

Arrogant, yes, wily, smug, distracted, of course.

Never _worried._

“Stark?” Thor edged carefully towards him, brow creased in concern.

“Hydra,” Tony muttered, voice dry and cracked as he turned to look at them at last, “you’re talking about Hydra. They were defeated after the war.”

“Are you sure about that?” Darcy asked, jaw clenching as she remembered the things she’d read about the old organisation.

That was just what they needed.

_Nazi’s._

 

—-

 

Stark seemed to be grasping the magnitude of the situation at least, that was _something_ Loki supposed. Even if he did keep addressing Darcy with a casual contempt that made his teeth grind and his magic flare.

She had proved herself at every turn to be as capable as any other, _more_ so even, and the fact this mortal thought he could dismiss her so easily made him itch to strike out. To teach the man some respect.

But he wouldn’t, not now at least, not with Darcy’s fingers curled around his own, flexing and soothing in turn as she faced down this new challenge with absolute grace.

“You see why stealth is so important now?” Darcy asked Stark, apparently immune to the Man of Iron’s insolence, “We don’t know who can be trusted inside Shield and we can’t risk the bad guys finding out we’re onto them before we have the Sceptre. You saw what they did with the Tesseract, and that was supposedly the _good_ bit of Shield.”

“Do we even know where this thing is? Did Heineken give you a map or anything?”

“Himdale,” Darcy corrected primly.

“ _Heimdall.”_ Foster sighed, “he said it was in a city, the capital of Sokovia I think. Above it technically, in a castle between ‘ _forests and mountains and men.’”_

“Of course he did,” Stark sighed, “Jarvis? Can you do anything with that _enlightening_ description?”

“I do believe I can, sir,” the A.I. responded, a flickering blue landscape appearing in the centre of the room and drawing them all towards it, “the Zázkany castle is located only ten miles from the Sokovian capital, it was built high in the Čierna forest and is almost exactly equidistant from the surrounding mountains. It also shows recent signs of fortification work and increased levels of unknown energy readings.”

“Fantastic,” Stark muttered, pacing the edge of the hologram. Flicking it back and forth with a wave of his hand, “now how the hell do we get in _there_ subtly? We don’t exactly blend in.”

Ah. This was his moment it seemed. Thor's eyes were heavy on him as he cleared his throat, Darcy’s hand squeezing his before releasing him and taking a step back.

“I believe that is where I can be of some use,” he said, remaining aloof underneath the Stark boy’s eyes as they fixed on him, “I can get us into the compound unnoticed. Once inside however it may not be so easy.”

“How you gonna do that, new guy?”

“Magic.” He replied simply, ignoring the contemptuous tone. He would not make a scene, no matter how much he despised Stark or this _place._

And Norns did he despise it, every square inch of the room was a bad memory, a reminder of his own _weakness._  How easy he had been to manipulate, to control, of how much hatred he’d harboured inside of himself. A darkness still waiting to rise to the surface even now.

“Not sure how I feel about that,” Stark hmmed, tapping his fingers against his thigh, “the last magician from Asgard kinda did a number on us. A super murderous number, no offense.”

“That is unfair, Stark,” Thor spoke, the words as unexpected as if he’d grown another head, “Loki was under the sway of the sceptre as much as Barton or Selvig.”

“Say what?” Stark said, one of the few times his thoughts seemed to perfectly mirror Loki’s own.

“There was more at stake than any of us knew. Loki was under the control of a mad Titan named Thanos. He seeks objects of great power like the Tesseract and the Sceptre, and would use them to destroy everything we hold dear - he used them against my brother too.”

“So this Thanos guy has beef with Earth?” Stark demanded, eyes narrowing as Loki watched them like some strange new play he’d suddenly found himself in the middle of.

“Not only Earth but all of the universe, his crusade to wipe out half of all things living has been long and bloody. With these objects, these infinity stones, he could do it with a snap of his fingers. I fear he has been playing games with us _all_ for longer than we know. That is why we must retrieve the sceptre and see it safe again, where it cannot be misused.”

Loki couldn’t help but be silently impressed, it was almost articulate for Thor. Almost… _understanding._

“Loki told you this?” Stark snorted, eyebrows rising in obvious disbelief, “I think Reindeer Games has been pulling your leg.”

“No, he bore the Allfather’s punishment in silence, despite how little he deserved it. If it wasn’t for a great mage seeing the truth in his mind and bringing it before the Allfather he would be there still. Loki’s suffering has been great, his service since invaluable. I would have you speak of him with respect.”

Inhaling sharply, Loki looked away at last. It was all too bizarre. He was a monster in the eyes of Asgardians and mortals alike, a threat to them even before his fall. Even before Thanos.

How could Thor stand there and defend him so easily?

Even now Thor continued, solemn blue eyes meeting his own as he added, “I have never been prouder to call him brother.”

“Well that was unexpected.” He heard himself say, glad his tongue had not deserted him, even if his senses had.

His chest was a hotbed of confusion, distant rage, panic and, beneath it all, an ugly little sliver of hope. He couldn’t let himself feel it though, it was too dangerous. Acknowledging the feelings only served to make them worse.

Loki had never been anything but Thor’s shadow starving for light, his rival. His enemy. They had been set up from infancy to war.

This act of brotherly contrition could not possibly be true.

_Could it?_

“It is my greatest shame that it should be so unexpected, I hope one day to earn your trust again.” Thor blinked, “ _His_ \- _His trust,_ not yours Localtus. Of course.”

Ah yes, _that_ was more like it. Thor had given the ruse away in less than an hour, adding who knew how many complications to their task.

It was almost as irritating as it was _comforting._

“It’s _Locutus_ , dude,” Darcy hissed the correction, hand scrubbing across her features as Foster let out a noise of distress.

“Alright tell me what’s going on,” Stark demanded, the sharp whir of machinery filled the air. Metal blurring as it streaked past them to slam into Stark’s outstretched arms. He raised his gauntlets, “now, please.”

Loki sighed, what was that charming Midgardian saying? The cat was out of the bag?

He could always bespell Stark he supposed, or simply remove him from the situation with force, but he didn’t think Darcy would much care for that. Instead he shrugged, letting the illusion fall away like a cloak.

“Surprise.”

“You did _not_ just say that,” Darcy groaned, one hand curled against his arm. Her shoulders were tense, poised as if she were ready to leap between him and Stark at any moment.

“What?” He replied with a shrug, perfectly cool even as his insides churned. A thousand barely suppressed emotions still battling for his notice as he met her gaze, “Thor gave it away, not I.”

“It was a slip!” Thor protested weakly, “I did not mean for you to reveal yourself so.”

“Wait - wait-” the propulsors whined, flickering as Stark waved his gauntleted hands back and forth between them idiotically, “you _all_ know about this? And you…” his gaze fixed on Darcy, eyes wide in disbelief, “you’re saying _Loki_ is your boyfriend?”

Loki bristled at the _disgust_ in Stark’s voice. He made it sound unthinkable, _unnatural_. Absolutely impossible that a woman like her could ever choose a creature like him.

The same reaction as Thor when he’d discovered them abed together, like it must be a mistake. That somehow Loki had tricked her, _victimised_ her.

Rage caught between his ribs, burning cold inside of him even as the small hateful voice in his head echoed their sentiment. They were right. He was unworthy. It was a mistake.

“Hell yeah he‘s my boyfriend!” Darcy’s hand clenched tight against his sleeve, pulling sharply at the fabric as she stepped forward to glare at Stark. “I mean, well… if he wants to be, we haven’t made it like _official_ official or anything…”

Her words trailed off, suddenly uncertain as she glanced back at him. Colour stained her cheeks, her lip caught between her teeth as if awaiting his rejection. His heart clenched, the blackness in his chest easing just enough that he could breathe again.

It didn’t matter what Stark thought, or Thor or Odin or a thousand thousand lesser beings. As long as she wanted him he would be there.

“I would be honoured to be considered so,’” he said solemnly. She kept the power of the sun in her smiles, bright and just a little bit dangerous as she beamed at him. Turning back to Stark he gifted the man with an imperious smirk, “which is to say I am courting the Lady Darcy.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” he heard Foster mutter, palming her face as she turned away.

“Gross,” Stark’s expression twisted but his impudence couldn’t touch Loki now, “you have terrible taste in men, y’know that?”

“I have terrible taste? Tell that to the nineties, they want their soul patch back. Wasn’t cool then, still not cool now.”

“Ouch, that was unnecessarily personal,” Stark rubbed at his chin, “but really people, Glasses’s questionable dating choices aside, this is a bad idea. You all know that right? This guy should be in jail!”

“He faced his judgement,” Thor was holding Mjølnir loose in his hand, casual but ready. All this drama for him, he supposed he should feel honoured, “A judgement he did not deserve. He seeks only to help.”

“He killed over a _hundred_ people?!”

Loki had killed many more than that over the centuries, he had been raised by a warmonger in a family of warriors. Death had long been his legacy.

It seemed ironic that it would be these _particular_ deaths that would be used to judge him though.

He had helped commit far worse atrocities in a much more lucid state of mind.

“What about you, Tony?” Darcy spoke for him, her spine arrow straight but her hands shaking, “how many people have your weapons killed? How many realms did Thor help invade before he came here? How much blood does Fury have on this hands, Black Widow, hell even Agent Barton? _”_ Her mouth thinned into a line, “Tell me, are Avengers the only ones allowed the luxury of change?”

His breath caught despite himself, hypnotised as she pulled the iron man apart with nothing but the strength of her voice and the power of her eyes.

“One wrong move.” Stark warned, the words as flimsy as rice paper. They didn’t matter, Stark didn’t matter.

Loki had already won.

 


	24. A Monstrous Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so much for your continued support guys! It is literally been keeping me going these last few weeks 💜 you are all the absolute best of people!
> 
> Particular shout outs to the amazingly supportive RogueSareth for beta-ing, and DenseHumboldt for pre-betaing this two weeks ago when I was sure I’d gone off the deep end 💜
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy!

 

 

It was amazing how quickly they’d managed to settle the whole _Loki_ issue.

Jane had vanished as soon as they were done talking in search of Doctor Banner, mumbling something about celestial radiation signatures and tracking parameters, and Darcy had taken the opportunity to pull Loki away on the pretence of raiding Tony’s tactical room.

Not that he let them leave without a glare and a two fingered point at Loki in the universal _‘I’m watching you’_ sign on the way out.

Classic Stark.

She kept having to remind herself that it wasn’t his fault. Tony didn’t know Loki like she did, none of them did. They hadn’t seen the things she had, hadn’t _felt_ them either.

He wasn’t a real person to them. Not really. He was just a storybook villain to be battled, 2D evil in a 3D world. For now at least.

“I’m still not sure of the wisdom of engaging Banner in this,” Loki sniffed, eyes drifting around the shelves and racks of gear, “he doesn’t exactly exude _subtlety_.”

“He’s staying in the air with Jane in a purely scientific capacity,” Darcy assured him, _again,_ “don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the green guy. Promise.

His mouth twitched in a wry smile, “how terribly reassuring.”

She smirked at him before turning back to paw through the rails. She’d fought Stark tooth and nail over their list of potential allies, unwilling to jeopardize the mission _she’d_ started. Eventually they’d managed to agree on just three extra bodies for _‘the team.’_

Banner, of course, he was the weird energy expert after all and Darcy liked him. He’d always been nice to her during her short time at Stark tower. He never stared at her chest or rolled his eyes when she spoke.

Part time angry green monster or not, Bruce Banner was one of the good guys.

Then there was Colonel Rhodes, _War Machine_ , she’d never met him but Stark vouched for him, claiming the colonel had less to do with Shield than any of them. She’d brought up his records herself before agreeing.

Last but not least there was the big one. _Captain America._ Tony had called him up, because that was apparently something he could do, and told him to get his ass over to New York on the double.

Darcy had let that one go without complaint, after all - if you couldn’t trust Captain America who _could_ you trust?

But still something gnawed at her, a thought she’d been sitting on since breakfast. It worked at her, a squirming little maggot in the back of her brain she hadn’t been able to squish. 

“This might sound sick, but there’s a part of me that’s glad the sceptre isn’t in Pennsylvania, y’know.” She didn’t know she was saying the words until she heard them aloud, faux breezy as she stared straight ahead, “not that I’m glad about the big evil or anything but, yeah. Kinda a relief.”

“Why is that?” Loki asked, following her like a shadow as she fingered the drawer full of arrows. They were for Agent Barton obviously, and absolutely no use to her.

It was probably best not to poke them too much in case they went boom. Not that it stopped her.

“That’s uh... that’s where I grew up.” She said to the cupboard, “not exactly a fun time memory place. I swore I’d never go back there, well… _after_.”

“After what?” She felt his fingers trailing through her hair, his body warm behind her. She wanted so badly to lean back but she couldn’t, not yet. Now she’d started she didn’t think she could stop, needing to spit up the rest of the story like bile as it threatened to choke her.

“After Karen died.” She met his gaze in the mirror, he had trusted her with so much already, his other face, his body, he deserved the same. “it was my fault.”

“I don’t know if I can believe that,” he said softly, hands resting on her shoulders and squeezing lightly.

“You should,” the words were caught between a choked whisper and a bitter laugh. She’d never told anyone this, she’d barely told herself it, “it was just before I left for college. I was angry at her, _so angry_ , I’d been working two jobs to save up the money for the move and she… she’d found the cash I’d hidden in my room. She took it, spent it, shot it _alllll_ into her arms.”

Darcy could still feel the sticky heat of the trailer even now, the sickly sour vinegar smell in the air. It clung to her lungs, making her head dizzy. And then there was that copper tang too, overheated metal and blood. Karen’s nails were red with it, chunks missing from her skin where she’d scratched and scratched.

“I knew she was in a bad way, like a _really_ bad way but I didn’t care.” It didn’t matter that her face had fallen, her skin pale and clammy as she slurred out a half hearted apology at what she’d done. How she’d _needed_ to do it, “it just made me angrier that she’d done it to herself _again_. That she’d taken something else from me.”

Darcy felt sick, hollow, realising with mounting horror that she’d never really let herself face it before. The _guilt._ She’d hidden it behind her righteous anger and callous disregard for so long that now she was looking directly at it she thought she might hurl.

“I got my bag and left her there, didn’t turn back. Never called anyone. I went back a couple of days later to get the rest of my stuff but it was too late.” Her chest was too tight, lungs squished up inside of her as she tried to brush his hands away, “so yeah. I killed my mom. And you thought _you_ were the monster.”

She tried to smile but it stuck on her face, swallowing hard as his hands tightened on her shoulders. He didn’t let her pull away, holding firm as she struggled against him. Against herself. Glancing up at last she found him looking back at her through the mirror with fathomless green eyes.

It wasn’t sympathy, thank God, she didn’t think she could have stood that, but empathy maybe. Perhaps that was worse, she couldn’t brush it off as easily.

Even if she could never accept it.

“You are no monster, Darcy Lewis,” he said with absolute certainty as he turned her to face him properly, fingers gentle as they cradled her chin, “and you are not at fault in your mother's death. She was the architect of her own fate.”

“You have to say that,” she mumbled, wanting to look away but not knowing how, “you’re kinda my boyfriend now.”

The closest thing she’d ever had to a real boyfriend probably. She’d been so busy stopping him from pushing her away that she hadn’t had the chance to return the favour. Maybe it was character growth.

Maybe she was just hoping she’d finally met her messed up match.

“Darcy, are you only willing to forgive the missteps of others? You said it yourself, everyone in this tower has blood on their hands,” he caught hers as he spoke, raising them to his lips, “but not you. You _must_ release this idea that you were to blame, it has eaten at you for long enough.”

There was something wedged in her throat, something she couldn’t laugh off like she always did as he kissed her knuckles. Heat pricked behind her eyes as she whispered, “I don’t think it’s that easy.”

“Maybe it isn’t,” he shrugged, breath warm and steady against her skin, “maybe it is. Perhaps we are neither of us the monsters we thought.”

“Maybe we aren’t. Maybe we are,” she replied, leaning into his touch despite herself. She needed it, the comfort, the _warmth,_ she needed to believe someone could understand her. That _he_ could. That maybe she wasn’t to blame. That maybe this was more than just a temporary glitch in her lonely matrix, “whatever we are, maybe… maybe we could just be it together?”

“Always.”

 

—-

 

All Loki could do was curse himself for a fool.

He had been so consumed in his own darkness he had never considered she might harbour her own. It was easy to forget she had suffered when she smiled so easily, so often, accepting others with a look and a shrug. It had been all too easy to overlook the fact she was suffering still.

He had always known he was a selfish man but this was the first time he truly felt the sting of it.

“I suppose it’s not a great time for a breakdown,” she sighed, some semblance of her former spark returning to her as she straightened up, “What with the whole universe to save and all.”

“The universe can wait.” He promised, as if he could banish her shadows through the power of his will alone, “I will make it.”

“You talk a big game, mischief. I think I’d like to see that some time.” She lifted up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his in an achingly short kiss before pulling away entirely, “but first you wanna help me pick out some battle gear? I mean most of this stuff is designed for underfed giraffes and bodybuilders but I _think_ some of it might fit with a bit of help.”

He could do nothing but follow her, tied to her by an ever shrinking cord as she plucked a shirt from one of the many racks. The pain seemed to fade to the backs of her eyes as she held it critically to her chest.

It was like looking into a mirror as he watched her retreat behind a smile and shrug. He knew that look far too well, understanding it was sometimes easier to bury the pain than face it.

He would let her, but he would never forget it. There was no creature in the universe that deserved the burden of guilt less than Darcy Lewis and he would do just about anything to free her from it.

“A little ordinary, isn’t it?” He asked, placing his hands over her shoulders again and tracing the line of her collarbone with his thumbs. Needing to touch her more than ever even as he lightened his tone, “for a goddess?”

Her smile was worth a thousand thrones. Genuine and tired as she tilted her head up at him, the mission a hazy footnote in the back of his mind as he met her gaze.

“What do you suggest?

“If I may?” He waited for her nod before he acted, twisting his magic into a spell and letting it break across her like a wave.

A tunic with short sleeves and braced shoulders that fell into a slitted skirt around her thighs. A soft undershirt blossoming beneath it, translucent sleeves gathered just above her elbows, and of course the banded leggings and boots she had favoured on Asgard.

Something part warrior, part queen.

“Hmm,” she considered, eyebrows quirking as she turned to look herself over in the glass, “you really have a thing for green don’t you?”

“It suits you,” he murmured, unwilling to admit just how much the sight stirred him. There was something almost primal about seeing her like this, his common sense swallowed by the possessive need to mark her as his own for the world to see.

“Maybe I wanna see you in my colours for once.” She twirled in his arms, mouth quirking in a half smile as her hands rose.

Her magic crept over him, golden and fizzing like champagne bubbles across his skin. It settled low in his belly, a delicious warmth as the green of his armour turned sapphire blue at her touch.

The blue of her eyes. The blue of his skin. It left him off balance, reeling and uncertain as he looked at her handiwork.

“It suits you,” she hitched an eyebrow at him, teasing again. Then the colour was gone, draining back to green with a wave of her hand, “but then again, I think I like you just as you are. Like _you_ want to be.”

Darcy Lewis had powers even he hadn’t anticipated, ones that defied everything he thought he knew about magic.

Perhaps this was true chaos, this unguarded _feeling_ she awoke in him. Feeling that seemed set to destroy him at every turn. The real shock was how willing he was to let it.

“And you Lady Darcy,” he murmured, catching her hand again and holding it close to his chest, right above his pounding heart, “you should wear whoever’s colours you choose.”

“I know,” she replied, cheeks dimpling as she stretched up again, “today I choose yours.”

  
  
  



	25. Action Plan, Action Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lil delay on this! I had some Yonvers fic to finish 😉
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone still here and reading though, I don’t even have the words to tell you how much I truly appreciate it 💜
> 
> (Also please forgive me for the terrible edit on this chapter, I’m a lil bit tipsy over here and I’ll fix it tomorrow 🤣)

 

 

The calm couldn’t last, nothing ever could.

Before Loki knew it they were on the move again, piling into one of Stark’s aircraft’s with a small selection of people who wanted him dead.

“Bruce,” he greeted affably as they stomped up the ramp, “Captain, and… ah, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Colonel Rhodes,” the stranger said with a glower, “I know who you are, I helped clean up the mess you made last time you were here. And lemme tell you if you even think of-”

“Please excuse me, _Colonel,”_ he sighed, “I’m sure your threats are _truly_ awe inspiring but we have a mission I believe, perhaps they could wait until after?”

“Tony!” The Colonel shouted, stomping past him towards the cockpit, “I told you this was a-”

The words were drowned out by the sound of the engine thundering to life beneath them, leaving him with only two enemies to contend with.

“Pleasant as ever I see,” Bruce adjusted his glasses, ever the mild mannered scholar even with a monster lurking just below his skin. Not that Loki knew anything about _that_ of course. “I heard you weren’t the one behind the murder and mayhem in New York.”

“And you believed it?”

“I’ve felt the sceptre’s power,” he said simply, rubbing his hands over his arms, “I believe it. Not sure if I believe that makes you our friend though.”

“The enemy of my enemy, Doctor Banner,” Loki replied darkly, “our interests align, in this at least.”

“Good,” Bruce replied, nodding his head before wandering off towards a bank of computers towards the front of the craft, “that’s good.”

“And you Captain?” Loki asked, alone with America’s most patriotic son, “anything you need to get off your barrel chest?”

“No,” he said, fastening his shield to his back, “you’ll know if I have anything to say to you.”

Loki’s brow rose, surprised at the Captain’s fortitude. He knew there must have been a _discussion_ , a heated debate where they had weighed his sins against his circumstances. They probably considered themselves _safe_ in the thought they’d defeated him before.

 _Fools_.

They had bested a half-mad shadow of himself, they’d never even tasted his true power.

“Alright team,” Darcy called out, emerging from the cockpit at last and clapping her hands brightly, “huddle up, it’s planning time. Tony hit the lights.”

The relief was imidate, a tension he didn’t know he was holding draining from him as she smiled at him, stopping at his side like there were no other place in the room for her.

Stark complied with Darcy’s instructions as Thor and Jane Foster joined them, muttering something about bossy interns under his breath as he projected a hologram into the middle of the bay. A flickering blue map of their intended target appearing as the craft shuddered up through the atmosphere.

It was surprisingly smooth for a Midgardian vehicle, he had to give Stark that.

“I’ll go and send Rhodey back,” Banner said softly, turning away, “I’m not exactly needed for this part.”

 _Rhodey_ returned with a scowl on his face, standing stiffly at Stark’s shoulder and glaring at Loki every few minutes or so. Loki felt quite certain one good scare could scar the man for life, not that he’d do so now of course with Darcy so intent on the moment.

Later however, he would be fair game.

“I’ve been studying the files Stark sent me, the best plan seems to be to enter through the forest here,” the captain spoke first, gesturing to a thin dirt road on the holographic map laid out between them, “there’s a convey that goes through every twelve hours carrying troops. If we can infiltrate it without setting off any alarms it should take us straight to the heart of the compound. I guess that’s where we’ll find out where _your_ loyalties really lie.”

Sharp blue eyes met his across the plane, the great Captain America glaring at him with the full might of his patriotic fury.

“I suppose so.” Loki replied evenly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. His loyalty was where it had always been, saved for himself, and the select few he cared for.

Still, he didn’t need to advertise the fact.

“Once we’re inside we’ll split up,” the Captain looked away first, pointing with two fingers as he spoke, “standard formation. Bruce and Dr Foster will be on comms. The main power source seems to be located here, that’s your target once the Sceptre is retrieved Stark, Colonel. I’ll head for the guard station and try and neutralise the alarms and stop outside contact. Thor you’ll go with Loki directly towards this section, It has the strongest unknown energy signature so it’s most likely to be where the sceptre is housed. Once you’ve secured the weapon, we take the base out.”

“Thor will be disabling the mounted weapons,” Darcy interrupted with a frown, “I’ll be going with Loki to retrieve the sceptre.”

“ _What_?” Stark’s disbelief echoed through the hull, eyes wide as he turned on her, “no, you’ll be staying on the plane, no matter how fancy your new Viking get up is you are _not_ part of the team.”

“Sorry ma’am,” the good Captain nodded sagely, “but Stark’s right. It would be unsafe to allow civilians in the field.”

He felt Darcy freeze beside him, her knuckles turning white as she looked between them.

“I’m sorry, but did you just call me a civilian?” She asked, her frustration palpable, “And _ma’am?_ This is my mission, I’m getting the sceptre.”

She was uncompromising, fierce and tall as she faced them as their equal. Their _better._

“You?” Stark scoffed, “no offence but you’re… you’re not exactly _Avengers_ material. Just stay here and help out on the comms where it’s safe, ‘kay?”

His theory had been proven, the Avengers were _idiots_.

 

—-

 

Heat flushed through her chest, a sick anger that stung at her like she’d swallowed a hornets nest. It was high school all over again, college, Asgard, every shitty job she’d ever worked.

They underestimated her. All of them, _always,_ the whole world content to see her shape and form and think it _knew_ her. Judging her with a single glance and finding her lacking.

Even now, dressed for battle Stark took one look and laughed.

The outfit was exquisite. Ornate without being ostentatious, all made up in emerald green and black and touched with gold here and there. A faint pattern of Celtic knots and apples tracing its edges. Her hair was swept back in wild Viking braid, a circlet sitting across her brow like a crown.

She looked… _good._ Different. Powerful and confident and…

_Strong._

She looked like she’d always wanted to feel.

And it still wasn’t enough.

Her throat was tight, too tight, frustration burning behind her eyes as she struggled to find the words to push back against this new humiliation.

This was _her_ mission, _her_ plan. And they’d… they’d just...

“You are speaking to Darcy Lewis,” Loki’s voice pulled her from her spiral, anchoring her as she struggled to regain control, “the heir to the power of Eris, the new goddess of chaos, and the most powerful sorceress the universe has seen in ten thousand years. You will speak to her with _respect.”_

Her heart squeezed, thudding painfully in her chest as he stared them down with ice cold eyes.

“Loki is right,” Thor added solemnly, “The realms have not seen a power like that of the Lady Darcy for millennia. You would be wise not to speak to her with such casual contempt.”

“We’ve all seen it,” Jane took a step forward on Thor’s other side, chin raised, “and even before she got powers you’d be idiots to underestimate her.”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t see it,” Stark said, gaping openly at her, “a _sorceress?_ Like… _magic?_

“ _Like, magic_.” She confirmed, voice dripping in sarcasm. The feeling glowed golden in her veins, her power rushing forward eagerly at the slightest provocation as she borrowed her friends strength. Their _support_. She’d kept it in too long, it wanted out, and it wanted to _play_. “Wanna see?”

She didn’t give Stark chance to reply, twirling a finger and making him jerk like a doll on a string. She slammed him across the bay into the emergency seats. The plane rocked, shuddering in mid air as the seat straps bound Stark up like a fly in a web.

No not seat straps… _snakes._

She smiled as they writhed and wriggled over him. A perfect illusion of life only she could control.

“Not enough?” She asked, flicking up an eyebrow, “what, cos I don’t have a metal suit? _Fine_ , I’ll get one then.”

The lights flickered above them, dying down to a threatening orange glow as a preternatural silence echoed through the cargo bay. She imagined the Ironman armour, drawing the memory up and wrapping it around her like a second skin. Savouring Tony’s gasp as he saw what he wanted her too.

The real sell was in the details, that’s what Loki had always said, so she made it clank as she walked towards him, a familiar whine filling the air as she raised a gauntleted hand towards him. The armour might have been an illusion but the power in her hands wasn’t.

“ _Duck,”_ she grinned, barely giving him enough time to fold forward before she shot it out. Searing a dark line into the side of the wall as the energy rushed out of her in a bright beam.

Rhodey moved to intercept her but she stopped him with a flick of her hand, the Captain too, she wanted them to stay where they were so there they stayed.

“Not yet,” she said over her shoulder, “adults talking. Tony thought I needed a suit so I got one, I bet his can’t do this though.”

She stepped out of it, letting it seal up behind her into a perfect replica of him. Swallowing the tightness in her throat she sent the thoughts out in waves, mind rushing as she focused on _exactly_ what she wanted them to see.

The suit’s head snapped up, joints hissing as it grew and stretched in the cargo bay. It’s shoulders hunched forward, black ooze spilling from the seams like tar as it opened a gaping mouth. Rows of jagged metal teeth rotated within, its eyes shining dirty red as it surged forward with a metallic scream she’d gotten straight from a Mad Max movie.

She let it get on top of Stark, filling the air with the scent of diesel and rust before she snapped the illusion away. The Ironmonster vanished into smoke, the snakes falling away as straps once more. Only the dark line burnt into the wall and the whites of Tony’s eyes proved anything had happened at all.

“Well?” She asked sweetly, turning over her shoulder to smile at the Captain, “still wanna sideline me, Cap?”

“No ma’am,” he replied quickly, “uh - Miss Lewis.”

“I liked you better before your space vacation,” Stark grumbled as he pulled himself to his feet forehead shiny with sweat as he rubbed awkwardly at his neck, “did you have to damage the plane too? Look at that, right through the paint work.”

She shrugged, “you wanted to see my qualifications, I just showed ‘em.”

“Yeah well… hey, wait-” His eyes narrowed tellingly, “if you can do all that why do we need _him_?”

Jeez, for a supposed super genius he was incredibly dense sometimes.

“Because _sometimes_ you need a _scalpel,_ ” she said slowly, mouth twitching as she carefully enunciated every word, “and not a _flamethrower_.”

“Damn, point taken, Sabrina,” he held his hands up, backing away with his eyebrows raised skyward.

She only shrugged, taking Loki’s hand when he held it out to her and taking her place by his side, amongst her friends. The rest of her feelings - the hatred and uncertainty and soul crushing guilt - was background noise now, locked away safely where it couldn’t touch her.

“Interesting use of Altham’s illusionary principles,” he murmured low in her ear, the pride in his voice warming through her.

“I had an excellent teacher,” she replied tilting her head up and kissing him brazenly. Not caring who saw as he tightened his arms around her waist.

She was done hiding.

 


	26. Operation PowerStaff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s mission time! 💜  
> Thank you for everyone whose stuck with the story so far - I cannot tell you what an inspiration y’all are to me! 
> 
> As always I’m taking some creative liberties with the source material, I never felt they really dealt with the sceptre’s apparent ‘inherent darkness’ properly so this is my take on it through the lens of some hyper-magic-sensitive space idiots! 💜 Hope you don’t mind it!

 

 

The castle sat high above the city, a squat ugly building just peeking out from the forest around it. Snow fell thick here, coarse white blankets chilling the air.

He didn’t feel it of course, packed together with the other members of his _team_ in the back of a shuddering Midgardian convey truck as it trundled towards their goal. It was hushed and dark, only thin shafts of light poking through the damp canvas to see by. The effect rather highlighting the gloom than alleviating it.

He’d gotten them in without issue, his magic rolling the mind of the driver like a wheel when they’d surrounded his vehicle on the deserted road. The soldiers whose identities he’d stolen knocked out and tied up somewhere deep within the forest.

If it were up to him he would have finished them where they stood, but it wasn’t his call to make. More's the pity. It would guarantee there would be no surprises after all, and was marginally kinder than letting them freeze to death in the snow.

“You sure you got this, David Copperfield?” Tony muttered, his hand braced against the roof as they crested the hill.

“Question me again and find out.” Loki snapped.

The man of iron was really pushing his luck, the temptation to rip his insolent tongue out and present it to Darcy in a silver box still burning bright in his chest.

 _Darcy._ She was stiff beside him, shoulders tight as they edged closer to their goal. Her hand slipped to her neck, worrying at the chain she wore beneath it. He’d never noticed it before, but now was not the time for distractions.

“I still think we should have deployed the iron legion,” Stark muttered, “they’re not finished yet _but…”_

“ _Please_ , cos sending in a troupe of sentient, _weaponized_ robots would not only be subtle but totally not likely to go wrong at any moment.” Darcy hissed back, “stick to the plan, Goatee.”

“Heads up soldiers,” the Captain was at the edge of the transport, a corner of canvas falling back into place as he turned to them, “we’re going in.”

“ _Wonderful._ ” Loki rolled his eyes, a light sheen of sweat beading against his spine as he tightened the illusion.

A glamour was nothing on its own, he could make himself anyone or anything with a thought, but six perfectly realised real-life illusions synchronised to distinct individuals? Well that was more of a stretch.

It would be even harder when they split up, he’d warned them of that before they’d gotten into the truck. They’d have fifteen minutes, twenty at the most before the spells would start to disintegrate. He’d offered a more thorough transformation of course but none of them had taken him up on it, no one wanted to die as someone else.

The vehicle ground to a halt, light slamming into them as the back was pulled open by a dour faced commander.

“ _Vse obračunane_?”

“ _Ja, gospod_.” Loki replied shortly, shifting in front of Darcy on instinct as he adopted the attitude of the soldier whose identity he had taken. Clipped and hunched, a man who had cold fingers and better things to do with his time.

Sharp brown eyes met his, the commander’s mouth tensed into a hard line as he swept his gaze around the transport. Picking out every line and feature.

Had he looked long enough at the soldiers? We’re his illusions are tight as he thought?

The moment held, tension wracking his skin as he felt Thor begin to twitch. His hand reaching for the disguised Mjølnir even as Loki’s owns fingers itched with uncast spells.

“ _Nadaljujte_ ,” the moment broke, the commander waving them through with a grunt.

“We’ll need more than that to get into the castle,” Stark said as the truck rolled into the heart of the compound, “I just looked out the front and they’re checking cargo. I don’t think this is gonna hold up if they start getting _chatty_.”

“What like a distraction?” Darcy asked, leaning around him as her eyes lit up, “may I?”

“Be my guest,” Loki gestured for her to take the lead, pushing his fears aside in favour of her excitement. She was strong, stronger than anyone he’d ever known.

He only prayed his lessons would be enough to guide her.

 

—-

 

They were doing it. They were actually _doing_ it.

Darcy wasn’t sure if there was a word for the feeling between absolute adrenaline-pounding elation and pant shitting terror but she sure as hell was feeling it.

Darcy Lewis, ex-full time intern, current part time emotional mess, and now potential wannabe superhero.

Speaking of…

She pressed her eye to the hole in the side of the canvas, magic rushing up inside of her as she scanned the scene. Just a little distraction, that’s all they needed, not enough to get the soldiers up in arms but enough to keep them busy. Something chaotic but not actively dangerous.

A memory swam up behind her eyes. Ms Joynes drama class in tenth grade. Her pinched face twisted as she yelled and spat at them. The way she’d dragged in breath through puckered lips, drawing back in a moment of perfect timing right as the ceiling collapsed.

The pipe had burst, _all_ of the pipes had burst, water raining down in a glorious chain reaction throughout the school. Two thousand bored teenagers suddenly drenched and screaming as they ran through the halls, laughing, fighting, ignoring authority entirely as the staff struggled to fix the leaks.

She’d never seen such perfect chaos.

Until now.

“Think want do,” she murmured as the magic began to take form, shaping it inside of her mind like playdoh, “think, want…”

_Boom._

“ _Kaj za vraga!”_ “ _Sranje_!”

The shouts echoed through the truck, ground shaking with the thunder of boots as the water mains in front of the building burst, turning the yard outside of the castle into the world’s first nazi water park.

“There.” She beamed, letting her magic dance around her fingers for a moment more before pulling it back in, “shall we go then?”

“Alright team,” Captain nodded, “fall out.”

“You’re welcome,” she called after them, trying to keep it light and breezy even as her pulse raced. She was pretty sure if she made one wrong move her heart would fall right out of her butt.

“Are you ready, my lady?” Loki asked, ridiculously handsome even now, his illusions calibrated so only the outsiders would see them.

God he was smart.

“As I’ll ever be.” Shaking her head she pushed forward. It was time to put her magic where her mouth was.

Dropping out of the truck was like dropping straight into a movie scene. Only way louder and more confusing, and totally gross smelling.

The mud was slick beneath her feet, churning up as they jogged towards the castle. She kept her eyes low, taking in everything from the corners of her vision. Posture, that’s what would sell it, and _confidence_.

Keeping her shoulders tight she fought to match pace with Loki even as the mud dragged at her boots. Spine straight. Chin up. A soldier’s run.

Just one of many, that’s all she was, on another mission. Somewhere else to be and not enough time to get there.

Still, she didn’t draw breath until they’d ducked into the side door. Her lungs felt like they’d been stuffed into a vice, squished up under her ribs as they started down the identical stone corridors within. She fought to remember the blueprints, the network of neat printed lines becoming blurred as she tried to translate them to crumbling stone walls and crates and shadowed arches.

It was a maze and she was pretty sure they were the rats.

Rats on a mission though.

A soldier turned the corner hard in front of them, making her heart jam as he thundered towards them. Gesturing and shouting like a maniac, “ _Vojak, kaj se dogaja?_ ”

It’s a good thing no one had given her a weapon cos she’d have tased him the minute he showed up. Oh wait, she _was_ the weapon. She should probably try and remember that.

“ _Nunjo vzdrževanje_ ,” Loki wasn’t freaking out in the slightest, shrugging like he’d been speaking Sokovian since he was born, “ _poročati poveljniku._ ”

The soldier continued and they were alone again. Just him, her, and the adrenaline currently threatening to drown her alive.

“What was that?” She asked under her breath, turning blindly into an older part of the building.

“Maintenance emergency,” he smirked, “they’re reporting to the commander. And we are getting the sceptre, which way?”

“Left,” she guessed with absolutely no certainty whatsoever, aiming for the passage way. “ _Shit!”_

She stumbled, crying out in pain as something seared into the flesh of her chest.

“ _Darcy!”_ Loki was on her in a second, catching her arms as she staggered, “What is it?”

Hissing between her teeth she yanked the chain from under her shirt, the heavy silver locket on the end _burning_ as she scrambled backwards, pulling them away from the doorway.

“This thing,” she swore, turning it in her hands as it cooled. “Nyx said I’d know when I needed it, not that it’d burn my frickin’ tits off.”

Loki froze, hands closing around hers as she glared at it. It had been acting up since they’d entered Sokovian airspace, buzzing against her skin like an excited bumblebee as they got closer and closer.

“Darcy…” his voice caught her, his face paler than ever as she looked up at last, “do you know what that is?”

“Huh?” She frowned, gaze flicking between him and the pendant, the tiny grain of stone inside seemed to be glowing in the dim light. Looking all innocent now it had settled back to room temperature, “it’s a necklace, Nyx said it had a Herdy Gimlet in it or something, she said I’d need it, not much else. Classic Asgardian move, no offence.”

“ _Hirða gimsteinn,_ ” Loki corrected as his hands tensed around hers, “ _the_ _mind stone._ ”

“I’m sorry, what?” She blanked, staring down at the tiny fragment like it had grown horns, “but that’s what we’re here to find. It can’t be in this thing if it’s in the sceptre.”

Right? It was the mind stone after all, not the defy-the-laws-of-physics-stone. Still, she lifted it closer anyway, shaking it for good measure.

“I assure you that’s a part of it,” Loki said quickly, catching her hands again and forcing her to stop, “separated during its inception I would guess, it would take a great power to splinter it otherwise.”

“Well fuck,” so it was a chip of infinity stone, fantastic, and it seemed to suddenly have gained sentience. Which… which kind of made sense actually, “Maybe it’s trying to tell us something? That’s why it’s acting up, maybe it wants to go home…”

Inhaling sharply she held it up again, determined to test the theory. It took less than two steps towards the left passageway before she was yelping and backing up. The splinter really didn’t want to go that way it seemed.  

“Okay,” she whispered, “how about this way?”

Turning slowly she headed carefully in the other direction. The gentle buzzing intensified as it remained blissfully cool in her palm. It seemed like Nyx was right after all, she’d have to send her a thank you card or a fruit basket or something when all this was done.

No apples though. Obvs.

“Well then?” She asked, looking back at Loki with a grin, “shall we follow the mystical necklace?”

He sighed, the sound holding the weight of several centuries before he nodded, “I suppose we must.”

“Awesome, let's go team!”

The necklace’s pull grew stronger with every step, shaking so hard she had to fight to keep hold of it. It led them deeper, spiralling ever downwards as a static chill grew in the air. It set her teeth on edge, the smell of mildew and rot growing so thick she could taste it.

“I think… I think we’re getting close,” she whispered to Loki, fighting the urge to scrub her hands over her arms as an oily feeling settled over her, “like… through _there_ close.”

There was an entrance in front of them, heavy double doors in the empty corridor.

“Shall we?” He asked, hitching an eyebrow at her as she hesitated.

“I guess.”

They took two steps and the world started shaking. The ground rocked beneath their feet, dust raining down from the ceiling as the shouting started.

 _“Bzzt. We got trouble kids.”_ Stark’s voice echoed through the comms followed by another explosion, “ _think we’ve been rumbled here.”_

 _“You weren’t supposed to blow the power until after we have eyes on the sceptre,”_ the Captain shouted back, _“this is a covert operation.”_

_“Not any more it’s not!”_

There was another boom. And another. Swearing and static filling her ear piece as Loki steadied her, sharing a look with her that needed no translation.

The shit was about to hit the fan. _Officially_.

“ _Here,”_ he grabbed her, crushing her between the wall and his body, cape thrown over them as the doors behind them burst open.

The spell held, the invisibility charm clinging to her skin as a stream of pale faced scientists rushed out swearing in a language she didn’t understand. Darcy tensed, hands clenching against his chest as she strained to see.

“What if they take the sceptre?”

He pressed tighter, which she would have _really_ enjoyed in any other circumstance than this one, “they haven’t,” his fingers curled around the necklace, his skin warm against hers, “you’d know if they did.”

“Right,” she nodded, swallowing hard as she looked up into his face, his eyes bright even in the darkness, “you’re right.”

“I often am,” he murmured, tracing the line of the chain up over her collarbone and making her reconsider the importance of world saving again.

“ _Darce, you there?”_ That was Jane, kicking her back into reality again, “ _Darce?”_

“Copy that, Doc,” she whispered, pressing a hand to her ear with a sigh, “we’re getting close.”

“ _You should be on top of the sceptre, the energy signature is right there, can you see it?”_

She shared a look with Loki, his mouth tightened as he nodded. Moving back at last. She missed him immediately, falling into step as they edged towards the door.

The corridor was empty now, the room within buzzing with silence as they approached. Curling her hand into a fist she let her magic stutter and spark. They had no idea what awaited them through the archway, or how many people there were left in there that they’d have to fight. She _really_ hoped she’d be up for it.

The room was cavernous, dark and musty with the smell of sour water and rust. Her breath caught, held tight between her ribs as they looked around.

It was empty.

Completely and utterly deserted aside from the crates and piles of tech. They’d all evacuated.

Well, almost all of them.

Darcy made the mistake of looking up, shrieking despite herself as she clamped a hand over her mouth. It was hideous, one of the beasts from New York stretching the breadth of the room with its shining black scales and impossible fangs.

“ _Fuck my life_ ,” she gasped into her palm, trying not to cringe as she stalled in place.

If it hadn’t been for Loki’s hand on her elbow she might well have launched a shot at it. It was one thing to see them on the news and another entirely to have one strung up above you, looking for all the world like it was about to open its jaws and swallow you whole.

“It’s dead, Darcy,” Loki whispered, prodding her forward across the echoing flagstones. His gaze on high alert, looking for threats as she forced herself to get her shit back together again.

Really, a giant dead space bug was the least of their troubles right now. Something that was made abundantly clear as the comms started going off again.

“ _We got civilian casualties in some sort of medical wing_ ,” Colonel Rhodes voice crackled through her ear piece, “ _I count five, all either dead or unconscious, looks like they’ve been experimented on too. We’re gonna need evac here_.”

“ _Like we didn’t have enough reason to hate these guys_.” Stark replied, “ _Thor with me, we gotta clear a landing site. Foster get on the local hospital, Banner get the first aid kid.”_

The words became distant, blurring into the background as Darcy’s eyes lit on something glowing in the distance. The pendant around her neck rattling one final time before falling still.

“Loki?” She whispered, almost afraid to speak any louder in case it might vanish. Or turn out to be a trap, “is that it?”

“It would appear so,” she could hear the strain in his voice, feel his tension as they approached the dais together. She tried not to think about the last time he’d seen it, _held_ it.

Things had changed since then.

“We’ve got eyes on the glowstick,” she said into the commlink, “retrieval in progress”

“ _Copy that. Be safe._ ”

Ha. Safe grabbing hold of an infinity stone, there was a thought. She was three feet from the sceptre before she started feeling sick, two feet and her legs were shaking.

One foot and she _knew_ , with every fiber of her being, that the sceptre was evil.

 

—-

 

Loki’s head was pounding.

He’d rather been enjoying the thrill of adrenaline that came with action, of ducking through dark corridors with Darcy, his power surging beneath his skin. Holding her tight as the world shook around them.

But that was before.

Before he’d seen the beast above his head, the crates of weapons around him, memories of his darkest hours flooding his senses.

It was before he’d seen the sceptre.

It was a twisted thing, radiating darkness even as it sat so innocently in its cradle. Crying out even now for someone to take it, to wield its power in whatever way they could. To destroy or control or both.

That was Thanos’s doing, it must have been, the stones themselves had no agenda. No issues. They simply _were._  This twisting horror was merely a lens Thanos had placed it in. Magnifying every dark impulse into a frenzy.

And Darcy was reaching for it.

“ _Wait,”_ he heard himself shout, voice echoing as her hand trembled over the staff.

“What is it?” She asked, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on her brow as she looked back at him.

“The sceptre, it’s…” he didn’t want her touching it, didn’t want her sullied by its malice. But he didn’t know how to say it.

He stepped closer, wanting to take it from her and terrified at the same time. Even from here he could feel it calling to him, begging him to pluck it from her hands and use it wisely.

Use it to conquer, to claim, to bend the world to his will and…

“ _Oh,_ ” Darcy staggered back, the golden staff clenched in her hand as she held it up. Staring at it with wide blue eyes.

“No!” He hurled himself forward, time slowing down around him. Thick as molasses as he tried to lunge for her.

 _Crack_.

The noise echoed through the room like a gunshot, air rushing past him as he was blown off his feet. Dust blinding him.

By the time it cleared he could hardly breathe, panting as he surged forward again. Terror filling his belly like ice.

She was kneeling on the flagstones, head bent forward, fractured pieces of gold around her where she’d destroyed the sceptre.

The infinity stone glowed on the floor in front of her

“Sorry about that,” she hit him with a half smile, her face was smudged with dirt but her eyes were clear, “that sceptre gave me the jeebies.”

“What- how do you intend on moving it now?” He asked, relieved and worried all at once. The sceptre was bad but it was preferable to nothing, they couldn’t move an infinity stone without some sort of shielding after all. It could destroy them.

“With this of course,” she held up the pendant, working the catch free with her thumbnail and opening up the front of it, “it held a splinter just fine, why not the whole thing?”

“Darcy, be careful-” his warning died on his tongue, his heart seizing as she calmly reached forward and, without any ceremony, picked up the stone.

 


	27. Growing Pains

 

 

It was like touching fire.

Only not like that at all.

It was everything at once, every element, every sound, every shape, every colour. Every thought she’d ever had firing off inside her mind, every question she’d ever asked herself.

_When are finals again? Did that guy literally just fall from the sky? Why is this happening to me? Is it my fault? Do I have enough change for coffee? Should I trust him? Should I trust myself?_

The memories wouldn’t stop, blurring over each other in a sickening kaleidoscope swirl. Overlapping mundane and magic, school reports and swearing and sharp pains and laughter. Loki.

She tried to hold onto his image, his face, his voice, but it twisted away from her. The golden sea inside of her rose, spilling over the banks she’d worked so hard to build. It filled her, drowning every nerve and synapse until she _was_ the sea.

It was the crown around her head, the worlds beneath her feet. The bowing of a thousand million lives to her superiority. The knife in the hand of an enemy. A kiss from a lover. It was a quiet space in a forest of apple trees in a world where everyone had forgotten her name. It was absolute anonymity. It was darkness, it was light, it was _possibilities._

She saw her mother, the best days merging with the worst, flushed cheeks and dead eyes, stringy hair and that bright red lipstick Darcy always secretly coveted. She saw her weaknesses, her fragility, a woman without support in a world that wanted to consume her. She saw herself too, as she was at least, a shit scared eighteen year old kid who’d been hurt so many times she didn’t think she could feel it anymore.

She saw anger.

She saw _forgiveness_.

But it wasn’t enough. The feeling clawed at her, demanding more, not caring that it was unravelling her brain like a curious kitten with a ball of yarn - _Kitty Softpaws get out of there-_ it yanked at the threads, neurons firing like a pyrotechnic display - _Happy Fourth of July Jane! I made cocktails -_ it was crushing her - _I could crush them all if I wanted too, I would never be underestimated again -_ it was… it was...

It was chaos.

She froze, a deep calm washing over her even as the tide rose higher and higher still. If there was one thing Darcy Lewis could handle, it was chaos.

She stopped fighting. The visions slowing as they broke over her, clearing into a narrative she could almost follow. She saw a dozen different pasts, a dozen more futures, and in the centre of it all she saw _them._

The infinity stones.

Where they were, where they could be. What would happen if the wrong people found them or didn’t or did.

A red glowing mist on a forgotten planet. An orb in a cave on the other side of the universe. A blue cube in Asgard’s vault. A green gem worn around a monk’s neck. An orange glow guarded by a demon demanding a terrible price.

A yellow stone shining in her outstretched hand.

_Hands._

She had hands. She forced herself to find them through in flames of her mind, to remember she had a  physical form and use it. Dropping the stone in the locket and slamming it shut.

 

—-

 

Loki knew nothing but _fear._

He had frozen, every muscle locked up as light seared into him. A golden pulse so strong it threatened to blind him even as he fought against it; he couldn’t shut his eyes, couldn’t look away. Not when her head had fallen back, power bursting from her eyes like flood lights. Her nose, her mouth, a white hot glow that he could feel burning even here.

She was caught in a tornado of it, an energy so strong it made his skin crawl as she was lifted like a rag doll. The stone glowed in her palm, metal dripping in rivulets down her pale arms as her braces melted away like ice.

It would kill her.

The thought landed like a fist, punching straight between his ribs and setting him moving again all at once. He had to stop it, had to _save_ her. His skin blistered from the heat as he fought his way towards her.

The pain was nothing, the fear was nothing, there was only _her._

He was reaching for her when she fell, a sharp _click_ echoing through the sudden silence as the locket slipped out of her hand. Clattering against the flagstones as she crumpled to the ground.

He was beside her in a heartbeat, gathering her into his arms. Her whole body was trembling, shaking so hard he could hear her teeth chatter.

“Told you-” she mumbled jerkily, “told you it would work.”

The glow was still there, swirling beneath her skin as she looked up with unfamiliar gold eyes, trying to smile even as she quaked. Unspent energy spitting from her skin like solar flares.

“You will be the death of me,” he growled, holding her closer still. So tight it would take a giant’s strength to prise them apart as he thanked the fates over and over for her safety.

“Drama king,” she snorted, head butting his shoulder weakly, “Just grabbed an Infinity Stone with my bare hands, no big deal.”

“Only you could think so,” he found himself shaking his head as she held tightly to him. The ground shook beneath them again, reminding him of how delicate their position still was. How vulnerable, “can you stand?”

“In a sec,” she heaved in a breath, “the magic… it’s out now. All of it. At once. I just have to - have to get it back inside.”

It shivered around her, an electric rush that rose like heat from her skin. It rubbed over his senses, his power rising in response, wanting to soothe, to help, but not knowing how.

“You can control it Darcy,” he said instead, bracing his forehead against hers as he ran his hands up and down her arms in the vein hope it might comfort her, “it’s what you’ve been working towards.”

“I know,” she murmured, “I got this.”

She really did.

The power seemed to stretch, her shoulders tense with the effort as she slowly, carefully, pulled it back in. It settled as a faint golden glow across her skin as she reached for him, letting him help her up as they rose unsteadily to their feet.

By the time he’d straightened himself out she was standing strong. Her hands flexing at her side as she smiled at him, blue eyes dancing with golden fire.

“You are remarkable,” he said with absolute conviction.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she grinned, “now we just gotta get this thing home free.”

The necklace rose as she reached out her hand to it, settling innocently in her palm. She rubbed her thumb along the glass gently before fastening it back around her neck, the stone tucked safely out of sight.

“Alright, shall we wrap this thing up then?” She grinned, the sounds of battle outside finally catching up to them as she held her hand out to him. “Save the day and all that?”

He took it, mouth curling into a smirk as he hitched an eyebrow at her, “There's a first time for everything I suppose.”

 

—-

 

Watching Loki fight was like watching ballet. Really violent, inappropriately sexy ballet.

He mowed down nazis like he was born to it, magic and menace combining in a beautiful fighting style she had absolutely no reference for. Krav Mag-ic or something. Whatever it was it was good since the wall of enemies were armed to the teeth, half of them shooting regular guns the others wielding some sort of _super fun_ energy weapons.

Darcy didn’t have the same combat experience, her entire repertoire limited to playground scraps and that one self defence class she’d taken in college. What she did have was magic.

Lots of it.

 _Too_ much of it.

It shook around inside her, a champagne bottle on a seesaw, her head still dizzy with the effects of the infinity stone even now. Her braces were gone, melted down into two golden puddles on the floor of the castle basement.

The pull of it was stronger than ever, forcing her to keep almost everything she had focused on channelling it where she wanted. The temptation to spiral was all too real, to release it in a glorious wave of power.

One that could hurt friend as easily as foe.

Nope, Darcy had to be better than that. She had to be the mistress of her actions, concentrating on blasting soldiers left and right as she followed in the wake Loki cut through the crowd.

The Avengers had assembled in their absence, the turrets smouldering wrecks as Thor hurled lightning back and forth across the battlefield. The Captain as on the ground, clearing back troops as Warmachine called plays from the sky. Iron Man working the perimeter and pushing back anyone approaching from outside the kill zone.

She could see why they were who they were, and why the world needed them. Loki fit right in, although she doubted he’d thank her for the comparison, he was just as skilled and strong as the others as they fought to even the numbers.

It was odd to think in another world, in a different set of circumstances, it could have just as easily been him saving the world instead of Thor.

She was getting distracted, which was so not useful right now. She needed to be focused, she needed to help, she needed to _not_ lose control and make everything worse. Fighting through the primal surge of adrenaline and terror she tried to marshal her powers. Focusing in on a single thought.

A single want.

_Disable the enemy._

But how?

A soldier came from her left and caught a blast to the chest, another from her right. It wasn’t enough, she needed something bigger. Something _stronger._

Gritting her teeth she struggled to remember her lessons, object displacement, kinetic manipulation. Loki’s voice. Loki’s touch. No, not useful. How about before that? A warm smile in a sunlit garden as Frigga showed her how to grow flowers and she made thorns.

That could work.

“Cover me,” she shouted to Loki above the sound of gunfire and yelling, “I’m gonna try something.”

She ducked behind a metal shipping container, the rust scraping into her skin as she struggled to catch her breath.

She could do this.

Steeling herself she leant around the edge of it, sweeping her gaze across the battlefield. She sucked it in, each face, each gun, each pair of jack booted feet hitting the ground. It grew inside of her, her chest heating as she held on tight to the locket around her throat.

Time to put all those lessons to use.

Gods help her.

Organic manifestation. Not roses this time but trees, like those looming all around them. Tall, strong, ancient things that had been here long before they were and would still be there long after they were done.

She squeezed her eyes shut, the memory of the troop placement burning in her skull as she pushed her magic down into the ground. Finding half dead seeds and pouring herself into them.

 _Grow_. She begged them, the power ripping through her in waves. _Live._

The ground shuddered, shouts rising as the quaking grew and trees shot upwards, not caring who stood in their way. The troops scattered, the lucky ones at least, the rest impaled on ever growing plant life. Feeding the soil with their blood.

She cringed at the sound it made, the _screech,_ it was for _sure_ gonna haunt her later but right now it was what she had to do.

“ _Please tell me that’s us?_ ” Stark’s voice crackled over the comms as the earth shook, Darcy leaning heavily against the metal as the power shuddered through her.

Once it had started she didn’t know how to stop it, the castle quaking as she fought to reign it back in. It felt _good_ to use her powers, to stretch them outwards and shake the earth with her will.

But it couldn’t go on. She had to stop it.

“ _It’s us_ ,” she called back through clenched teeth, bones aching as she struggled against the lure of more. More trees. More magic. More _chaos._

“ _It’s worked,”_  the captain called back,  “ _we’re almost clear for extraction, Banner. Regroup at landing site alpha.”_

Hands caught her, cool and achingly familiar. Power soothing over her skin like a balm.

“Breathe, Darcy,” he coached her, like they were back in his rooms again. Just another day, another lesson, “breathe it in and breathe it out.”

She did as he instructed, letting the power rise and fall in time with her breaths, letting it wane slowly until she could contain it again. Sealing it away inside of her and opening her eyes.

“You have done enough, sweeting,” he murmured, the endearment as unexpected as it was wonderful, her face flushing as he laced his hand in hers, “it is time to join the others.”

“Okay,” she nodded, following him as the world settled back in. Reality returning with the harsh scent of gunpowder and copper, her spine crawled as they passed the dead and dying. The scent sticking between her teeth as they ran for the jet. It had landed on the other side of the clearing, engines whining as the Avengers made a beeline towards it.

Her heart caught as she saw Jane descend the ramp, a medical kit in her hand as she spoke quickly with Colonel Rhodes.

“Darcy!” She called as they got closer, handing the kit over and running to meet them “thank God you’re okay! I was so worried!”

“You know me Janey, solid Teflon!” She grinned, the horrors fading as Jane caught her hands. Squeezing them tightly. Real life literally waiting in the wings again.

“You are a welcome ally, Lady Darcy,” Thor boomed from where he was helping Stark load a couple of crates onto the jet. “You too, brother. It has been too long since we fought together, side by side.”

”Yes, well I suppose you didn’t get in the way _too_ much,” Loki sniffed back at him, “although we did most of the heavy lifting.”

She opened her mouth to laugh at them, rolling her eyes at the moment of awkward brotherly reconciliation but she never got the sound out. Someone was shouting.

“ _Look out!_ _Sniper!”_

There was no time to process the words before thin hands were shoving her backwards. Jane knocking her off her feet as a faint whine brushed past her ear before smacking into the dirt.

“ _He’s down. Repeat, sniper down.”_

“Fuck,” she muttered, winded as she hauled herself up, “that was close. Thanks Jane… Jane?”

Something was wrong. Jane wasn’t smiling any more, her face pale, mouth working silently as she looked at Darcy in confused horror.

She raised a hand to her chest, forehead creasing as it came away wet. Red. Falling in slow motion as Darcy dove for her, heart stopping dead in her chest.

“Jane!” She shouted, “Jane’s hurt - someone-”

She barely registered Loki’s hands on her arms, pulling her back as Thor dove towards them. His hammer raised as he scooped Jane up like a rag doll.

“ _HEIMDALL_!” Someone shouted and lightning struck, the world turning white as the floor was sucked out from under them.

  



	28. Blind Hope and Desperation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *awkward wave* hi there guys!  
> Not to reveal myself as the needy bitch I am or anything but... is everything okay?  
> Have I done anything?
> 
> It’s just I seem to have lost like half of my commenters on these last few chapters - I mean on a good day only 7% of the people who subscribe to this story will comment anyway and now it’s down to like... 4% - which not gonna lie is super disheartening! 🙁
> 
> Just lemme know okay? Are you still there? Should I keep writing this? 💜

 

Darcy wasn’t sure how they got to the palace, everything had become a blur of gold and lightning. Chest so tight she could hardly get the air in as she chased after Thor, Jane slack in his arms. The guards didn’t stop them, at least she didn’t think they did, maybe they tried and thought better of it.

She didn’t know. She didn’t know  _ anything.  _

They’d been banished from the healing rooms as soon as they’d arrived, Darcy pacing a ragged line in the hallway outside as she struggled to think through the pain in her chest. A sick ironic throbbing, like she’d been the one who was shot.

Only she wasn’t. She was just fine and dandy and Jane, good, smart, innocent,  _ human _ Jane, was paying the price.

“ _ She’ll be okay,”  _ she murmured to the flagstones, repeating it over and over to herself until her throat was raw. A spell or a prayer, or both, “ _ She’ll be okay, she’ll be okay, she’ll be…” _

“Darcy,” there was a hand on her shoulder, warm and unbearably soft. Someone else’s magic fluttering over her skin as she turned, torn between leaning into it and pushing it away.

She didn’t deserve the comfort.

“It’s my fault.” She said, looking up into pained green eyes and feeling her stomach squeeze. Bile rising in her throat. “I should have seen it, I should have  _ stopped _ it.”

“There are things outside of our control,” Loki leant towards her, so understanding it made her ache, “even gods cannot see everything. It wasn't your fault.”

“It was,” she whispered, “I should have done more, all this power and… and…”

“No, Lady Darcy,” a deep voice spoke from behind her, Thor rising from where he had been slouched on the bench, “it is mine. I swore to protect her and I failed.”

“Thor, no,” Darcy started, but they were all cut off. Falling into a heavy silence as the door opened behind them and the lead healer stepped through.

Lady Eir. She’d been the one who saved Darcy. Darcy couldn’t help but think if  she hadn’t Jane wouldn’t have to be here now.  She’d be safe. 

“You may see her now,” Eir’s words were too soft, too somber, terror clenching in Darcy’s chest as she ran for the door. Pushing in behind Thor and almost wishing she hadn’t.

Jane was unrecognisable, a pallid grey creature under the golden lights of the healing chamber. 

“What… what can be done?” Thor asked, his hand seeming even bigger than ever as he took Jane’s. Holding it carefully as he stood over her fragile body, only the faint rattle of her breath betraying the fact she was still alive at all.

Darcy couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Frozen at the edge of the bed as she watched and waited.

“We can make her comfortable,” Eir said, eyes downturned as she stood to the side, “but her mortal body is too frail to survive this, it was not designed for such stress. With magic we can give her a few days, weeks even, but it would be kinder to let her pass naturally.”

“No.” The sound of her voice shocked her, too loud in the quiet, hard and sharp, “no she can’t die.”

“Listen-" Loki reached for her but she brushed him off. She couldn’t bear to be touched, to be  _ stopped.  _ This was her fault and she would be the one to make it right.

“I won’t let her die,” she surged forward, magic echoing up in her chest as she fell to her knees beside Jane. 

Think, want, do, right? That’s all it took. That’s how it  _ worked _ .

She thought. She thought about Jane, the way her face furrowed when she was faced by a problem she couldn't immediately solve or a result she hadn’t been expecting. The sound of her laugh, quick and surprised like she was never quite expecting a joke. The way she smiled with such unguarded warmth.

She wanted. She wanted Jane. Happy. Whole. Not ashen and wheezing with every breath, a great bandage covering her thin chest. Stained red even now. She wanted her like she’d always been, distracted and curious and and and  _ alive. _

She did. She pushed the magic out in shapeless waves, trying desperately to corral it into Jane. Into healing, light, love. Into making her better, stronger.

She had let Karen die, her own _mother_ , but she couldn’t fail Jane. Not now. Not ever again.

 

—-   
  


 

No amount of chains or torment had ever made Loki feel as helpless as he did in that moment. Unable to do anything but watch as Darcy poured herself into the magic, a thousand futile spells rushing from her and slipping like water over the body of Jane Foster.

They had never discussed healing magic, how it was made differently than the rest. There was a reason why the healing arts were so revered, their magic could not be contained with the same simplicity as other forms. To wield it you had to know the body intimately, every nerve and sinew, you had to understand how it worked. How it functioned. Shaping the spells into careful, twisting things that could only aid the natural process, not rewrite it entirely.

You could not heal through will power alone.

It was easier with the Aesir, their own natural ability made the magic work faster. But Jane Foster was mortal, and her body had suffered too much.

Darcy was sobbing, quiet, wracking noises that echoed inside his ribs as he stood silently behind her. Helpless. Thor was beside him, pale faced and shaken and smaller than Loki had ever seen him as he stared down at the frail figure on the bed.

He had never felt such compassion for his brother before, nor such desperate _ relief _ that it was not Darcy lying in Jane’s place. He owed the Lady Foster a great debt, one he would never see paid now.

“There could be a way to save her still,” a voice echoed from the doorway, soft and achingly familiar. The voice that had saved him a thousand times before, that filled him with  _ hope  _ even now despite his better judgement.

“Mother,” Loki twisted, heart squeezing as Frigga joined them, sending the healers away with a look. It seemed like new lines had formed around her eyes in their absence, a tiredness that bracketed her mouth as she tried to smile at them.

“You must move quickly,” she said as the door clicked shut, taking his hand in one of hers and Thor’s in the other. Squeezing them both tightly before releasing them, “take Jane to the orchard. A human body may not survive this trauma, but that of the Aesir? There is a chance.”

“But, Mother...” Thor’s voice was thick in his throat, a rough scrape of sound as Frigga reached up to pat his cheek.

“Go, take your friends and save your beloved, son.”

Darcy had stopped sobbing, looking up with red rimmed eyes as Frigga turned to her. Helping her stand and brushing her hair from her face.

“Be strong Darcy, she will need you,” his mother said, warmth incarnate even as she turned to him, “you too my son. I am so very proud of you, of all of my children. Now go, quickly before Odin discovers you.”

“It is too late for that, wife.”

The voice cut through him like a knife, setting his teeth on edge as they turned to face Odin. He stood heavy in the doorway, resplendent in his armour, gungnir raised.

A shining mockery of a king. 

“Husband, do not do this.”

“I have no choice,” his face was stone, weathered and unmoving, “they have publically defied my rule, disobeyed my laws and thwarted my authority. They have put my kingdom at risk. It cannot be stood for.”

Of course he would make it all about himself. The man had less compassion than a rabid beast.

“She’s  _ dying,  _ father,” Thor lurched forward, desperation twisting his face as he beseeched him, “you must let me save her!”

“She is mortal,” Odin said in a pale imitation of kindness, “it is their natural way to die, better to mourn her now than to cling to an impossibility.”

Loki could taste bile on his tongue, bitter and cold as his magic rose in his fingers. This was the man who would claim himself  _ Allfather.  _ It was more than he could bear.

The magic wound itself around his bones, spells for forgetting, spells for sleep, spells to take Odin down for good.

“No.” The sound of Darcy’s voice pulled him back to the moment, her spine straight as steel as she stepped forward and faced Odin as an equal. “You’re not gonna stop us, you’re not even gonna  _ try. _ ”

“You dare-”

“I dare.” She cut him off, hands trembling even as her voice held steady, skin glowing golden with unspent power. “You try and stop us and I will _burn this palace to the ground,_ do you understand? I will destroy everything you’ve ever built and salt the fucking ashes, Odin Borson, and then I’ll do it again. Let us go and...” she breathed in sharply, the sound twisting between his ribs in painful anticipation, “and when we come back I will face whatever judgement you see fit for defying your laws. Any punishment.”

_ No.  _ She couldn’t offer herself up like that, it was too much. He was opening his mouth to say as much when Thor cut in.

“Father please-” he pleaded, his big shoulders shaking as he stepped forward, “I will face your judgement too, I swear it, just let us do this.”

“Loki?” Odin’s eye turned to him, brow raised as he met his stare coldly, “What say you to this?”

The silence hung, heavy with every unspoken word and selfish act he’d even committed. This time there was no clever trick to play, there was no choice either, no matter how much he hated it or how much he wished to save Darcy from it.

It was the only way.

“I shall face it too,” he bowed his head, “whatever justice your _infinite_ _wisdom_ sees fit to bestow on me, I will accept it in exchange for the chance to save this mortal.”

“Loki,  _ no _ -” Darcy turned to him, brow creased with worry as she reached a hand towards him, “I didn’t mean - you don’t have to do this. I can-”

He caught her hand, holding it tight between his and raising it to his lips. Her skin was warm as he kissed it, honey and fire as he met her gaze, “yes I do.”

He was out of second chances but he didn’t care, not when she was so close. He would meet his fate willingly if it would spare Darcy her suffering.

“Very well then,” Odin said, inscrutable as he stared them down for one long moment, “I will give you seven days, when they are up you must all return to face your judgement. Whether the mortal lives or not.”

 

—-

 

_ Seven days. _

It echoed through Darcy’s head with every step she took. Thrumming through her like a promise.

The royal barge was exactly the kind of ornate Asgardian nonsense she would have usually loved. Sculpted gold details and lush fabrics. A relic from another world.

Now she hardly noticed it. Pacing the length of the ship as it sailed over Asgard. The Lady Eir had joined their mission, tending to Jane in her healing bed. She hadn’t woken yet, apparently it was safer for her to sleep. It would help keep her stable.

Thor didn’t leave Jane’s side, a hunched figure in a too-small chair beside her bed. Darcy couldn’t stand to stay there with them, she needed to move. To think. She left them to pace the main galley, Loki followed her.

_ Loki _ .

Her heart hurt, a fresh pang of guilt making its home inside her chest as she looked over at where he’d claimed a spot on the low seat opposite, a book sitting unread in his hands. He had seven days too. When she’d offered to submit to Odin’s judgement she hadn’t expected him to follow, he had suffered enough already at the hands of the  _ Allfather _ . 

Jesus, what a title. The guy wasn’t fit to be _anyone’s_ father. Even she, with her total lack of  experience with the breed, knew that. Whatever a father was  _ Odin _ wasn’t it. 

No one could blame Loki for escaping while he had the chance, he’d fulfilled his end of their bargain after all. He’d helped her escape, helped her retrieve the infinity stone, gone above and beyond and now… now it seemed like he’d risk himself for her again. Putting his neck on the line because she, with all her supposed  _ powers,  _ couldn’t keep her best friend alive.

“You should rest.”

She blinked, gaze focusing as she realised he was looking back at her. Worry creasing his brow as he closed the book he’d been ignoring.

“I can’t rest.” She couldn’t do anything. She was too empty.

“It will be many hours yet before we reach the orchard,” he rose, “and my mother was right, you will need your strength.”

She heard herself laugh, a bitter little sound as heat burnt behind her eyelids, “I don’t think I know what that is any more.”

“You don’t need to think,” he held his hand out to her with an imperious sigh, fingers flexing when she hesitated, “you need to sleep. Come.”

She gave in, there was no point not too. Letting him pull her into one of the slim state rooms. The ship was like an RV, a big fancy sky RV she really wished could travel faster.

There was a bed barely big enough for two in the room, a wardrobe built into the wall opposite with a wash basin beside it and a mirror above. 

“Boots off,” he raised an eyebrow at her, “and your overcoat please.”

“This is a waste of time,” she mumbled half heartedly, dropping onto the bunk and unlatching the buckles of her boots anyway. The soles were still caked with mud.

And blood.

She lifted it up, staring at the rust-red stain as the hollow in the pit of her stomach grew. How weird to think she’d done this, caused it… 

Her hands were red too now she looked at them , the colour caked under her nails in thick patches. Like dried paint.

“Thank you,” the boot was snatched from her hand, the other quickly following. Both miraculously clean as he stashed them at the end of the bed, “I believe I asked for your overcoat as well.”

Her hands were clean too, the dirt and sweat and blood vanishing from her skin like it had never been there. She almost hated him for that, for letting her be clean when she felt so filthy.

“Now please,” he tapped his foot impatiently, once more the arrogant prince she’d first met, “I would really rather not repeat myself, Darcy.” 

“I know what your doing,” she said to her shiny clean hands, struggling out of the sleeves of the heavy leather jacket someone had given her when they’d left the palace. Fandral maybe. Or Sif. It was a blur.

“And what am I doing?” He asked, taking it from her and hanging it primly inside the wardrobe before removing his own. 

“You’re being a dick so I don’t spiral into a crushing bout of depression and blow up everything with my kamikaze powers.”

Not that she had enough energy for magic anymore. Or anything else for that matter.

“Perhaps you’re overthinking it,” His eyebrows rose, the wardrobe door clicking shut neatly behind him as he looked down at her with knowing eyes. “Perhaps I simply  _ am  _ a… ‘ _ dick.’” _

“You’re not,” she wished he was, she wished she could rail against him, someone,  _ anyone,  _ she wished she didn’t feel so fucking useless, “I don’t think a dick would risk his neck by submitting to the judgement of his absolute fuckwad of a father to save some random mortal.”

“The Lady Jane is not a random mortal,” he said, sitting beside her and pulling off his own boots with a grunt, “she is my brother’s paramour, and your most trusted friend. Lie down.”

The bed was just as unbearably soft as the ones in the palace had been, pulling her in as she dutifully curled up on her side. She yelped as Loki took the moment to shove her unceremoniously across the mattress so he could join her. The lights dimming above them with a wave of his hand.

“You don’t have to do this you know,” she said to the wall as he wrapped his arms around her. Less of a big spoon than a bread knife.

“Do what?” He asked against her neck, holding her tightly. As if she might vanish at any minute.

She wasn’t sure that she wouldn’t. That she didn’t  _ want _ to. Maybe it would be better just to fade away beneath it all until there was nothing left.

Maybe then she’d stop hurting the people she cared about.

“ _ This _ ,” she said, “Odin’s done enough to you. You don’t have to suffer for me.”

“I thought I told you to go to sleep.” He muttered, squeezing her tighter, “I forgot how bad you were at taking directions.”

“I take it back, you  _ are _ a dick”

He huffed out a laugh, burying his face deeper into her neck as he settled himself more comfortably around her.

“Tell me one thing, Darcy Lewis.” He murmured as the hum of the engines filled the silence between them. Alone in another world, a place between time and crises. 

“I thought we were sleeping?”

He butted her with his chin and she snorted, squirming until she could face him in the half light. 

“What is it?” She whispered, heart throbbing as she met bright green eyes in the darkness. So close his forehead was pressed against hers, sharing oxygen like he didn’t care she was a dirty blood stained mess that even magic couldn’t clean. That something in her had broken and if Jane didn’t survive she didn’t know if it would ever be fixed.

“Would you really have gone up against Odin if he had tried to stop us?” He asked, brushing her hair from her face. His palm warm against her cheek, almost painfully tender, like feeling heat for the first time after being cold for too long. 

“Yes,” she nodded, unable to lie to him, “I would have destroyed him if I could have. Completely.”

“And you say you don’t know what strength is,” he shook his head ever so slightly, something wondering in his eyes as he leant forward, kissing her forehead with an aching tenderness. Pulling away he sighed, securing her tight against him, “now sleep, tomorrow awaits us.”

She wasn’t sure if it was his words or her exhaustion, but much to her surprise, she did.

  
  



	29. The Orchard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so first up wow, I am legitimately overwhelmed by the amount of support the last chapter got - I’m so glad there are still people here enjoying the story! 💜 I know it sometimes seems silly but comments are the only real way for an author to know if a fic is being enjoyed or not (kudos/bookmarks whilst lovely are still numbers in the end) so I really appreciated all your kindness on the last chapter! 🥰
> 
> In fact it got me so pumped I’ve busted out another few chapters, so hopefully the next one should be up quicker than normal after this! (That is if you haven’t left me forever after this one 😉 mwhahaha - keep the faith my lovelies!)

 

 

Calling this place an orchard was like calling the Grand Canyon a ditch.

Trees filled the breadth of the valley between two snow capped mountains, stretching all the way back to the horizon in endless twisting lines. Darcy couldn’t help but gape, it was like something from a fairytale. The trees were perfect; luscious green, their heavy bows glinting with golden fruit in the sweet spring air.

This place felt like  _ life. _

Desperation clogged her throat, hands clenched so tight her nails broke the skin of her palm as she descended the ramp and headed for the tree line. She was barely conscious of Thor beside her, or Loki and Fandral behind, all she could think about were the apples.

She’d dreamt of them. 

She dreamt she’d had so many she couldn’t hold them, but they were all wrong. All rotten. Apples slipping from her fingers and onto the floor, bursting, overripe fruit that spilt maggots like wine. She had to find a good one, a whole one, searching and searching until she was weighed down with them.

She’d bitten into one and tasted blood. 

Swallowing back the memory she forced her eyes up instead, sweeping across the landscape. The orchard seemed deserted, nothing but a waist-high boundary of thorny bushes separating it from the meadow they’d landed in. A gap in the hedges in front of them led straight into the trees, wide and welcoming and  _ easy. _

Her breath caught as she took a step towards it, then another. Could it really be that simple? Would the fates let it be?

“ _ Do not take another step.” _

Of course not.

The voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere at once, a whip crack of fury that cut right through her. Darcy flinched, teeth clenching as Idunn appeared.

She was just as beautiful as Darcy remembered, her skin rich olive against the white gold of her hair. It swayed as she walked, a thick curtain that scraped her hips as she emerged from the trees, dressed in warm brown silk and more furious than anyone Darcy had ever seen before.

“Lady Idunn, if you would-” Thor started, words dying as Idunn held up one sharp-nailed finger.

“No, Odin’s Son. You do not get to speak,” she flicked her hands, forcing him backwards as she advanced on the party, “you come here, you bring this  _ creature  _ here, and expect me to listen to your pleas? What fresh insult is this?”

This creature.

_ Her. _

Darcy had fucked up.

Again.

It was almost too much for her, knees sagging under her as she looked hatred in the eye and realised she’d killed her best friend twice over. She should have never come here. If she’d thought about it for a second,  _ just a second,  _ she’d have known that. So swept up in Frigga’s words and her own desperation it hadn’t even touched her mind.

If she’d just stayed on the ship, then maybe,  _ maybe  _ Idunn would have listened. 

But no. She’d rushed out headfirst like she always did and damned them all. 

For someone who had always prided herself on her smarts she really was wholly, completely, and lethally  _ stupid _ .

But she couldn’t turn back now.

“Lady Idunn,” she said, taking a step forward on shaking legs, “please, we’ve come here on the word of Frigga, Queen of Asgard, to barter with you for an apple.”

“ _ Barter _ ?” Idunn scoffed, “what reason could you possibly have for thinking I would  _ barter _ with you, creature?”

“No reason, only… only hope,” her throat ached, almost swollen shut with the force of her emotions as she met cold amber eyes, “I  _ know _ you know what it’s like to love, and what it feels like to  _ lose  _ someone _.” _

“You know  _ nothing  _ of me,” Idunn roared, face twisting in rage as she stalked towards them. Hand raised toward Darcy like a claw, “all I know of love is  _ betrayal.  _ That was love’s great  _ gift  _ to me, and I have lived with it’s corpse these five thousand years since.”

“I… I can’t imagine what that must be like,” she said, words thick and cloying in her mouth, “but there is an innocent woman on that ship  _ dying _ , my sister in everything but blood, and you’re the only one who can save her. Please.”

“Best she die now,” the goddess hissed, jerking her head away, “and is spared the agony of your  _ love.” _

“I _ - _ ”

“No,” she cut her off, a sharp fingernail scraping along Darcy’s cheek as she pressed in closer, “It is all as I foretold. I told them to cast you out and they ignored me. Chaos you were made from and chaos you have become, tell me child - whose fault is it she lies dying now?”

It hurt, God it  _ hurt _ . The word coming out small and strangled as she looked into Idunn’s eyes from far too close, “ _ mine _ .”

“Enough,” Thor pressed forward again, his face darkening as clouds rolled in above their heads, “I will not see my beloved die for your petty games, Idunn. I, Thor, son of Odin and Prince of Asgard, have come to claim an apple from your Orchard. You will not deny me.”

Thunder rumbled around them, a distant boom that grew closer as the wind turned cold, the air ripen with static electricity. Darcy held her breath.

“No,” Idunn said, barely looking away from her, “I have guarded these apples for longer than you’ve drawn breath, longer than your  _ father _ has drawn breath. Try and take them by force and I will see you dead where you stand.”

“I don’t care-” Lightning veined the sky as Thor surged forward, “better to die than live without her!”

He froze where he stood, his muscles straining against invisible bonds as Idunn cast against him. Fast and thick. 

The power was bitter against Darcy’s tongue, blood burning in her cheeks as she breathed in sharp shallow pants. Watching the skin of his arms tighten and flex under its invisible net.

“So be it.” Idunn  _ smiled _ .

Darcy’s magic rose inside her. A desperate rush that burnt against her skin as she looked at Idunn. 

She could kill this woman.

Well, she could certainly  _ try.  _ Tear her apart and feed her to the trees, like she’d done to those soldiers in Sokovia. Burn the orchard down and pick the fruit from the ashes.

Bring wrack and ruin upon it _all._

“Wait.” Darcy reached out, latching onto Idunn’s arm and pulling her attention away from Thor, “there’s another way.”

There had to be. She’d seen too much death already. If she could stop it now she would.

Please, let her be able to stop it now.

“ _ What?”  _ The goddess spat, glaring at the place their skin met. Darcy held strong, teeth clenching as she met her face on.

“You want revenge for what Eris did for you,” she breathed, “so take it. Whatever justice you demand I’ll pay it, whatever you want it's yours. Just… just leave the rest, let them take what they need and go.  _ Please _ .”

Idunn froze, gaze turning calculating as she looked her up and down anew. Pulling free of Darcy’s grip, she slowly circled her, silencing Thor with a gesture when he roared against it.

“You are willing to do this, are you?” Her cold gaze flickered down to Darcy’s mark, the scars that had become as much a part of her as her own skin. “You would give your  _ life _ in exchange for one little apple and the well-being of your comrades?”

“I would,” she said, forcing herself to keep her back straight even as her knees threatened to fail her. She wouldn’t fold now, and she wouldn’t give in to the madness surging desperately inside her bones either. If her life was the price she would pay it, better her than anyone else, “I would rather you take my life than hers.”

“Good,” Idunn said and for a moment Darcy only felt  _ relief,  _ it washed through her bright and cleansing before Idunn’s eyes narrowed, “that will make your suffering so much worse when you live and she doesn’t. There will be no trade.”

Darcy couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, reeling at the icy hatred in Idunn’s voice as her hopes fell away from her.

No trade. No bargaining. That left only one option.

_ War. _

She’d tried to fight it, really she had, but they were out of choices now. 

She looked back as her powers rushed and raged inside of her, Thor was ready, wrenching free of his bonds and raising Mjolnir high, Fandral poised with his hand on the hilt of his sword. Only Loki was silent, pulled back in the shadow of the ship and watching them with distant eyes. It struck her then that he hadn’t spoken yet, hadn’t stepped in like he always did with a quick word and a sharp plan.

He only watched, shaking his head slightly when she met his gaze.

Her heart broke for the second time in as many minutes. She’d told him he didn’t have to be part of this but she’d thought…

No. There was no time to fall apart. Idunn was waiting, smiling viciously as Darcy raised her head.

“Alright then,” Darcy said, letting the magic rush into her fingertips, an icy fire that lit over every nerve, burning the feeling from her until only the power remained.

Only the  _ violence _ .

“ _ Enough _ !” The shout cut through the fog rising inside her head, skin burning with unspent energy as Loki strode forward at last. “This has played out long enough, I can see our journey has been wasted. It is time for us to leave.”

Panic laced between her ribs, tightening by the breath as he seized her wrist. His grip was harsh and unfeeling, bruising her as she stared at him in disbelief.

“No!” Tears blurred her eyes as she wrenched her arm free. It felt like coals had filled her chest, burning bright and cruel with every breath, “I’m not leaving until we save Jane.”

“Yes you are,” he hissed, face as animated now as it had been still before, “better to have one dead than five. It is what she would want, I’m sure.”

“You dare speak for her-” Thor shouted, broad shoulders shaking as he lurched towards them, “your cowardice has no place here, Loki.”

“Neither does your idiocy.” His eyes were so cold she didn’t recognise him as he turned on his brother, “Do you think your lady would thank you for getting yourself killed? For getting us  _ all  _ killed?”

“I think it is worth a chance!” Thor cried, his desperation echoing inside of Darcy’s chest. It was worth it, it had to be, it was the reason they were  _here._ Why they’d given themselves to Loki. Why she was still clinging on to hope when she wanted to crumble. 

Loki would understand that, wouldn’t he?

“Well,” he sighed, dark hair curling over his shoulders as he shook his head again, “you’re wrong.”

His fingers flexed in a spell too fast for her to comprehend. Thor tipped in slow motion, crashing into the ground like a felled tree.

“Fandral, take Odinson back on board,” Loki gestured, “we have trespassed on Lady Idunn’s good graces long enough, and I have no desire to see his blood water the Orchard this day.” He looked up at Idunn, “Odin would have my head for it.”

Darcy couldn’t speak, momentarily struck dumb as Idunn considered them.

“I am not sure if I am more impressed with your self preservation or heartlessness, deceitful one,” she said, head tilting at Loki, “it is rare that the rumours are so utterly well founded.”

“Yes well, I haven’t lived this long on idiotic bravery alone,” he shrugged back, the moment so surreal she could barely believe it, head spinning as he seized hold of her again, “I have done as I promised and accompanied them here, it is hardly my fault their naive mission failed.”

“What are you doing?” She asked him, unable to grasp what was happening. Silently replacing the question in her head with,  _ who are you?  _

_ Who? _

“I have no intention of dying today, and I’m sure Odin will thank me for taking the mortal out of play and freeing up his favourite son,” he sneered at Darcy, eyes flashing with cold fire as his magic crawled over her. “Besides, what is her life to mine?”

It was too much.

His words caught her in the gut, making her sick as she lifted her hands against him. She had to save Jane, she _had_ too. Her power surged, rising fast like the tide, but it was too late. Threads of spells she never realised were there suddenly tightened against her, catching her like a fly in a web.

She pulled against it, fighting the bindings even as they dug deeper and deeper into her skin. Her brute force and raw chaos rendered obsolete by them.

Sucking in a harsh breath she felt for them, running her mind over the web and gagging at what she found. They felt like  _ him _ . A familiar magic it must have taken him hours to put over her.

Oh God, that’s why he’d wanted her to sleep wasn’t it? So he could cast against her, binding her whilst she slept. She would have cried out against it but the spells stopped her tongue.

“You have my apologies Lady Idunn,” he bowed his head, a perfect stranger as he slung her up into his arms like a corpse, “I would leave you the girl but alas she too is needed by the Allfather, perhaps another time.”

“Perhaps,” Idunn nodded, “I have no wish to further upset the crown, and anyway maybe now they will heed my words and cast her out themselves. Now, leave. I have no place for snakes in my garden.”

“As you wish.”

Darcy was helpless. Vulnerable. Unable to do anything but  _ watch _ as he dragged her carelessly back on board the ship. 

_ Empty handed. _

  
  
  



	30. Choose Your Own Adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should have run a betting pool on that last chapter - well folks, let’s see if you were right 😉
> 
> My forever love to everyone reading and commenting, to RogueSareth my fantastic Beta, and for DenseHumboldt who is an actual writing goddess and always kind enough to hold my hand when I’m freaking out about my writing 💜💜💜

 

 

The betrayal in Darcy’s eyes would haunt him for as long as he lived.

It cut deep, slicing right to his core as he had played into every stereotype they’d ever thrown at him. Arrogant, selfish, _heartless_. He had worn them all like a badge of honour as he felled his brother and trapped Darcy like a fish in a net.

Loki, the deceitful Prince. The selfish son. 

The monster. 

Self loathing throbbed within him as he held the magic tight. Each second an eternity as the ship sailed over the forests of Asgard. Thor and Darcy had been lain on the low couches of the main galley, Loki standing static between them as he waited. Snapping at anyone who came too close as he held the spells in check.

Sif had almost had at him when they’d returned but Fandral had silenced her, seeing better than the rest of his companions what had really happened in the Orchard. He had been closest after all, and he knew that Loki, for all his sins, never acted without reason. Even when that reason was incomprehensible to most.

After that they had left him in silence, following his command to fly the ship as fast and as hard as they could in the opposite direction. Thor slumbered on, but Darcy...

Darcy just lay there.

Her eyes were screwed shut as she breathed in deep quaking breaths. Her magic had roared like the tide in the Orchard, a desperate crashing wave he’d built buffer after buffer against during the long night. Casting over her until his muscles ached for this exact eventuality. 

Now it seemed shallow and dull under his strings. A faint echo of what it had been before.

Swallowing hard he released the spell at last, back bowing with the effort of holding it so long.

The room was silent for one long moment. Darcy’s eyes opened, bloodshot and wild as she rose unsteadily to her feet.

 “How could you?” She asked, voice small and hollow, “Loki, _how_ _could you?”_

“Darcy, I-”

She silenced him with a look, all his jumbled explanations sticking to his teeth as her eyes met his. Razor sharp like shards of glass.

Something else he’d broken.

“You killed her,” she whispered, taking a step towards him, then another, “you _killed_ her.” Her fist hit his chest, a solid thud he felt all the way to his bones, the words becoming a mantra as she struck him again. And again. Pounding into him as the tears started to fall, “you killed her. You killed her. You killed her. _I killed her.”_  

He struggled for breath, exhaustion pulling at the edges of his vision as he caught her hands at last. Her blows had softened, shaking and weak as she cried in front of him. 

It was time, it had to be. Idunn surely couldn’t sense them now.

“Here,” he said, vision swimming as he lifted the sleeping curse on Thor at last, “I had to be sure we were far enough away before… just, here…”

The apple appeared in his hand from where he’d hidden it in a pocket dimension, freshly plucked and gleaming golden in the dim light of the ship. 

It had taken every trick he had to get it. Idunn had to be distracted, _everyone_ did. His double a heavy, solid presence as he snuck away, tricking his way through Idunn’s charms and dodging her curses.

His bones _ached_ with it.

There was a reason Idunn had been trusted to guard the Orchard after all. Why only a handful of apples had been stolen in the near ten thousand years she’d stood sentinel beside them. Her magic was sunk into the soil itself, a thousand sharp edged spells spreading like roots beneath the surface and waiting to ensnare them all.

If Idunn had even _thought_ they were a real threat she could have killed them without blinking. The only hope was subterfuge. The only way was to ensure the others didn’t know of his plan. 

The only option was to _hurt._

To stand silently even as they faced their enemy alone. He’d nearly slipped when Darcy had offered herself up to Idunn as a sacrificial lamb. His spells stuttering even as he forced himself to continue, to work faster, _harder._  Trusting in Idunn’s bitterness even as his heart threatened to burst inside of him.

And then, when he’d gotten apple in his grasp at last, he’d had to bring it all to a close, get them back on the ship without raising Idunn’s suspicion. 

 Whatever it took.

It _bled._ A cold corruption of everything he wanted even as he saved them, playing his part so well even they believed it.

 “H- _how?”_ Darcy’s eyes were wide, endless blue as she looked up at him. Tears staining her cheeks with salt even now.

“Later,” he promised, pressing it into her palm. “now go, save your friend.”

 

—-

 

Darcy’s head was reeling as she stumbled towards the healing room. The apple heavy in her hand.

He’d… but… _how?_

That’s what it came back to, _how?_ How had Loki done it? 

And why had he lied to her?

She swallowed thickly, chest tight with tension as she pushed into the room on shaking legs. Her muscles were cramped from the spells cast against her, Thor equally as unsteady as he followed her in after gaping briefly at his brother.

She didn’t have time to think about what had happened, or what it meant, certain that if she faced any of the dozens of emotions fighting for control of her right now she’d crumble all together. She couldn’t do it. 

Jane needed her.  

“Lady Eir!” She called, proud of how normal her voice was despite the absolute shit show that was going on inside of her, “we have it!”

“Here, quickly.”

The next few minutes were a daze. She remembered Thor cradling Jane in his lap as he held her up, remembered Jane’s eyes opening dazedly, pain clouding them as Eir held the apple carefully to her lips. The sound of the first bite. The second.

The colour had drained from the apple once they’d forced her to swallow, the gold bleeding into a normal green tinge that spoke of nothing special at all.

The magic was in her now.

Their _hopes_ were in her.

“It will take a while,” Eir had said, carefully settling Jane back into her cot and returning her to the healing sleep, “the apples always do.” 

“We’ll wait,” Darcy replied, holding one of Thor’s hands in her own and clenching tightly to his strong fingers as they sat at Jane’s bedside. 

Jane needed her now, she needed to stay. To be there if… _when_ she woke up.

She had to wake up. 

Which was why it didn’t matter that part of her wanted to rush out and find Loki again to demand answers. 

_I’d leave you the girl but Odin wants her too._

_The girl._ It had hurt to hear him speak about her like that. Bleeding from within at the way he’d shut her up with a wave of his hand and hauled her away like trash on collection day.

Perhaps if she had been thinking clearly she would have seen through it. She thought she knew him after all, _all_ of him. Even the bits other people didn’t. But her head had been too full, desperation clawing at her until all she could see was Jane and Idunn and _death._

She’d stewed in it, locked in her own skin as the barge thundered softly beneath them. Flaying herself with her failures. With Jane’s death and Loki’s betrayal as she lay trapped in his spell.

Only now… now she wasn’t trapped and Jane didn’t seem to be dying anymore.

And Loki… 

He hadn’t betrayed them at all.

Time moved at a snail's pace, crawling by in fractured increments as they waited for something to happen. Eir returned intermittently, whispering carefully contained spells as she checked Jane’s vitals and changed her dressings. She looked up and smiled, assuring them all was going well before she left again.

Loki didn’t return though. The doorway empty of his silhouette. 

She couldn’t let herself think about it, focusing instead on the colour she could almost believe was seeping back into Jane’s ashen cheeks. The way her breath had evened. 

Darcy swallowed hard, heart thundering as her best friend let out a low groan. Her eyelashes fluttering as she moved restlessly on the cot.

“Jane?” She whispered, squeezing Thor’s hand so hard she was sure she’d leave bruises. Almost afraid to say any more in case she jinxed it.

“Darce?” Jane croaked, the sweetest sound she’d  ever heard, “‘s’you?”

 “ _Jane_!” The name came out in a full goat worthy bleat as Darcy fell to her knees beside the bed, hurling herself forward so fast her spine cracked. “Thank God! Are you - are you okay?”

“I’m… sore,” she mumbled, brow furrowing as she looked around the little room, “and somewhere strange. What… what happened?”

“You - you kind of got shot,”  Darcy’s filter had disengaged, completely wiped out as relief flooded through her like a drug as she held onto Jane’s hand, “but then we took you to Asgard and fed you an apple and now you’re better again. And sort of immortal.” 

Thor crowded in behind her, Jane’s eyes creasing in dazed confusion as she looked between them. 

“I’m sorry, what?” She asked slowly, “you gave _me_ an apple?”

“Yup,” Darcy nodded, not realising she was crying until she felt the tears dripping from her chin. Snuffing in great wheezy sobs as she held onto Jane like she’d vanish at any moment. “The magic apples were the only - the only way to save you, Janey.”

“Really, Darce,” Jane said, mouth twitching just a little as she gently squeezed her hand back, “I’m sure there’s a perfect- perfectly scientific reason for the- the apples properties.”

Darcy couldn’t help herself, laughing and sobbing at the same time as she pressed her uncomfortably wet face into Jane’s shoulder. Hugging her as tightly as she dared.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, Jane,” she sobbed into her neck, “dont you fucking dare. I can’t lose you, okay?” 

“I won’t Darcy,” she murmured back, “I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”

“ _Good.”_ Pulling away Darcy inhaled sharply, wiping her nose on her sleeve like a proper lady before turning to where Thor was hovering over them like a giant anxious bumblebee, “sorry, I’m hogging the patient, Thor can explain the rest. Try and get some rest, boss, I’ll be back to check on you soon.”

 Jane squeezed her hand again, smiling at her before looking to Thor. The feeling between them warming the room like a fireplace as Darcy turned away.

Her legs were still shaking as she shut the door behind her, scrubbing her hands over her face in a vague attempt at becoming human again. That was probably why she didn’t notice the person in front of her until it was too late, smacking slap bang into six foot something of solid flesh and fine leather.

“ _Loki_ ” she heard herself say, blinking at him stupidly as she tried to get her head on straight. 

 “The Lady Jane is well?” He asked stiffly, hands tucked behind his back. 

“Oh, yeah,” Darcy nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak in full sentences yet as she looked up dazedly, “thanks to you. You… you used a double?”

“I did.”

 “Smart. Was that… your plan all along then?” She couldn’t help but ask, awkward as fuck as the uncertainty returned. Knee-melting gratitude mixing with complete and total confusion and leaving her dumber than ever.

“One of them.” He nodded, head turned away as if he was fascinated by the door.

“How many did you have?”

He paused to consider it, eyelashes fanning against his cheeks before he sighed, “fourteen.”

Darcy had absolutely no reason to feel weird about it, he’d saved them, saved _Jane,_ no matter what his methods were. And yet part of her, just a teeny _tiny_ little part, kind of did.

It _hurt_ that he hadn’t shared it with her beforehand, and that he’d _actively_ cast against her whilst she slept.

 “You didn’t tell me.” She said quietly, not an accusation but a fact as her pulse stuttered awkwardly in her throat, “you didn’t tell me any of them.”

“I couldn’t.” he shook his head, “All of them depended on a genuine reaction, if Idunn suspected even a hint of subterfuge…”

“Would it have really been so bad?” 

He was the one always saying how strong she was, wasn't he? Didn’t he believe it? Didn’t he… didn’t he _trust_ her? Even a little?

She’d thought he did.

“Yes,” he replied, absolutely certain as he met her gaze at last, “there is a reason so few apples have been stolen from the Orchard. The magic there runs deep and cruel. It is stronger than all of us, even you. She had to be distracted, she had to _believe.”_

Darcy’s chest throbbed, biting her lip as the words sank in.

“It was believable,” she whispered, “I wish you’d told me, but I understand why you didn’t. I just… I thought maybe you trusted me more than that.”

“I trust you more than anyone, Darcy Lewis,” he said, lips pressing tightly together, “but I would not put you at risk. I would much rather have you alive and well and hating me.”

The realisation hit her like a fist.

They were Idunn and Eris all over again, only this time she wasn’t Eris at all. He was. His betrayal was an act, a desperate attempt at saving them even though he knew it might turn them against him in the process.

Like Idunn had turned on Eris.

She’d held onto it even as it ate away at her. A festering wound that had rotted every good memory from Idunn until only the hatred remained.

Darcy wasn’t Idunn though. She couldn’t be. She wouldn’t let his actions cloud the results, or the intentions. She realised now what it must have cost him. 

No, it wasn’t a betrayal at all.

It was something infinitely more dangerous.

“I could never hate you,” she murmured, chest aching as she reached for him. He let her take his hand, the contact warming through her as she took a half step towards him, “you saved her Loki. You saved all of us. We owe you a boatload of gratitude.”

“It was nothing,” he shrugged, eyes once more fixed anywhere but on her even as he held tightly to her fingers. Like he was frightened she might let go, vulnerability flashing through the cracks in his facade.

“How can you say that?” She asked, reaching up with her other hand and turning his face back to hers, needing to see his eyes,  “you just risked yourself to save a whole bunch of lives right there. It’s a Big Hero moment if ever I saw one.”

“I repaid a debt,” he murmured, gaze intent on her as she traced the length of his cheek with her fingertips, “nothing more.”

“I don’t get it,” her brow furrowed as she tilted her head at him in confusion, “what _debt_?” 

“You,” he whispered, his hand covered hers, pressing his face briefly into her palm. His breath warm and sweet as it fluttered over her skin, “Jane Foster saved your life, now I have helped save hers. The debt is repaid.”

_Oh._

_Her._

No one had ever put her first like that, like… well, anything. Willing to put themselves at risk over and over just for… for her. 

She swallowed hard, knees weakening as she looked into carefully guarded green eyes. Something seemed to swell between her ribs, a painfully sweet tightness that threatened to overwhelm her.

 “Loki,” she whispered, her pulse an uneven stutter in her ears. She needed to get the feeling out in words but she didn’t quite know how, “I…”  


 

 


	31. Gentlemen prefer Bombshells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes - yes just - okay - look - My name is Mink and I have a problem with Cliffhangers. There, I said it! They’re just so juicy and sweet and give me something to dive right into the next chapter around. 😭😭😭   
> Still I apologise for all and any emotional trauma they may cause, I promise to try and keep the speedy updates going to compensate okay? Love you guys! 🥰
> 
> MILD WARNING: Things get a lil bit spicy in the second half of this chapter, wink wink! 💜

 

Whatever Darcy had been about to say was cut off as the door to the cockpit whooshed open. 

Loki’s chest tightened, anger simmering to the surface as he dropped her hand. Affecting an air of calm as Fandral bounded towards them with a grin. 

There had been something in her gaze, something soft and bright and  _ overwhelming.  _ Something he wanted more than air, even as it terrified him. 

“We’re ten minutes out from the royal hunting lodge at Wulfrun,” Fandral said, rubbing his hands together briskly as if he couldn’t feel the silent curses Loki was sending at him, “I thought perhaps it might be wise to stop there for the night? Allow the good Lady time to recuperate, and to refuel the barge of course for the rest of the journey.”

“A wise idea,” Loki replied, a muscle jumping in his jaw, “set the course.”

“Wonderful, should I tell the others?” He gestured to the door to the healing room.

“I’ll do it,” Darcy offered, gaze darting back to his with a tentative smile, “back in a sec.”

She didn’t return until they’d landed, leaving him to snap orders and stew. He had thought perhaps her gratitude had outweighed the betrayal, that perhaps she’d accepted it.

_ Forgiven _ him even.

But every moment they were apart the memory twisted, uncertainty making itself at home in his ribs as he trailed along in the party’s wake. The old voice had returned to crow his unworthiness whenever it thought he would listen, an endless refrain in the key of monsters.

He had betrayed her, lied to her, he had to accept that. No matter what his intentions had been, he had caused her harm when he knew she had suffered enough.

The Lady Jane seemed to be improving at least, a flush of life already returned to her pallid cheeks as he watched his brother and Darcy help her carefully up the stairs. Leading her to the master suite, the healers on hand should she require them. 

He scanned the corridor, staying beyond the door as they settled her in. 

Centuries had past but the lodge remained the same, a world of long forgotten memories of hunting trips  past. He’d been sent every year as a boy with Odin and his brother, whether he liked it or not.

He had not.

The whole thing had seemed to be an exercise in his inadequacies. A yearly reminder of how he could never compare with his brother. It didn’t matter that he could fell a beast in a fraction of the time it took Thor, a clever spell or two doing in minutes what it would take brute force an hour to. Apparently it didn’t count. It wasn’t good enough.

_ He _ wasn’t good enough.

After they’d ended he hadn’t ever felt the urge to return. Until now at least.

“Where’s our room?” Darcy asked with a tired smile, snapping him from his thoughts as she emerged from Jane’s chamber, “I cannot wait to get these boots off.”

He was momentarily stunned, “you… you still wish to stay with me?”

He had become certain that after his subterfuge she would want some time away from him, knowing her trust was hard won and likely just as easily lost. He had probably never deserved it in the first place.

“Duh,” she said, rolling her eyes at him like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “why wouldn’t I?”

“I thought perhaps that in light of...  _ recent events  _ you might prefer some time alone,” he said uncomfortably, hardly daring to meet her gaze even now, even as he longed too, “I apologise for my subterfuge but I know it doesn’t change anything. I betrayed your trust, it would be perfectly understandable if you wished for some space.”

“Do you want me to go?” She asked, face softening in the last of the sun’s dying rays.

“No!” The word came far too fast, tripping over his tongue as he fought to reassure her, “no, of course not. That is, I… I respect your decision, my lady, whatever it may be.”

She sighed at him, lips twitching as if she was trying to hold back a smile.

“I gotta say you are an incredible smart guy, Loki, like one of the smartest I’ve ever met,” she said, shaking her head ever so slightly, “but you can also be a complete  _ dumbass _ sometimes. It’s probably why I’m quite so in love with you. Now, if we’re all sorted, I’m in  _ serious _ need of a bath and this place is a creepy maze. Lead on.”

“I… of course, this way.”

She...

She loved him.

_ Him. _

The thought echoed through his skull, pulling tight at his chest as he led her towards his chambers. Half stunned and entirely unsure of himself as the halls blurred around him. 

He had always craved her power. Her affection and desire. But love?

And the way she had _said_ it, with such simple authenticity before shrugging it off entirely and changing the conversation. Declarations like that were chips in a larger game, points to be traded back and forth and used against each other. Thrown out and demanded back in the same breath.

Only Darcy wasn’t playing, she hadn’t waited, eyelashes fluttering, for him to return the sentiment. She’d handed him her heart and moved right along.

She didn’t hate him.

She didn’t want to be apart from him.

She...

His mouth opened a dozen times to say something more, something _meaningful_ , but every time he stuck on the words. He’d been a creature of solitary pride and pain for so long he didn’t know if he had it in him to say them.

He was too selfish, too craven, wholly unworthy of her affection and he knew it.

“Please tell me there’s less taxidermy in your room,” She sighed, scrunching her nose as they passed under a wall of mounted heads, “it feels like I stepped into the Texas freaking chainsaw massacre in here.”

“But of course,” he replied, vanishing the hideous trophies within with a subtle flick of his fingers as he pulled the door to his old room open. He had never much cared for the stuffed beasts either.

Not like he cared for her.

 

—-

 

Darcy loved Loki.

Which, yeah,  _ of course _ she did, but it still came as a bit of a surprise to her when she said it like that. She’d only known him for a few months after all, and they’d been  _ ‘courting’ _ for like, what? A  _ week _ ? But, hey, it was true. The whole near-death-of-loved-one had brought sharply into relief just how short life was, even for a semi-immortal. His willingness to risk his own life, his own  _ happiness,  _ for her just drove that sucker home. 

He had hurt her feelings, but he had saved a life.  _ All _ of their lives. And she would have done the exact same thing if she was in his place. 

There was no need for forgiveness.

Still, even having made her peace with what happened she hadn’t exactly meant to confess her feels out loud like  _ that _ . She thought she’d be more subtle about it, more cool and, she didn’t know,  _ meaningful _ somehow. But then he’d been standing there with that adorable flustered look on his face and the words had just slipped out.

She let out a sigh, tucking the thoughts away again as she kicked back in the bath. No,  _ bath  _ was completely the wrong word, that implied something small and ceramic and person sized. This thing was a frigging pool _ ,  _ steam wafting off the water with the teasing scent of flowers and spices as she kicked her way over to the side.

“Hey, which of these things is the shampoo?” She called, perching on the shallow ledge that ran the length of the tub. It was at perfect butt height in the water, supremely comfortable as she sorted through a basket of brightly coloured potions.

“The purple one,” he called from the next room where she’d left him unlatching his armour and subtly disposing of the decor. 

She’d been too impatient to wait for him, head still fizzy with everything that had happened as she’d bounced straight into the wash room, whacked her clothes off and dove straight in. Besides, it wasn’t like she was gonna wait around for him to say anything back to her, about… y’know…  _ that.  _ She’d said what she’d said because it was true, it was about her feelings not his.

He cared for her, she knew it, and it was more than enough for her. 

It didn’t, however, make the shampoo any easier to find. She frowned at the bottles, “dude, there’s like three purple ones!”

“The dark purple one.”

“Not helping,” she shouted back, turning towards the door, “just show me okay?”

“Really,” he sighed, “it’s…”

His words died the same moment her brain took a vacay. He had stripped to his tunic and leggings, feet bare against the marble floor as he froze three steps into the room.

“Yes?” She prompted him, hitching at eyebrow. Like it was no big deal she was super naked or, now that she thought about it, kinda lonely in the big old bathing pool all by herself.

A warm shiver traced the length of her spine as his eyes strayed over her, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he started moving again. 

“Here,” he crouched beside the edge, selecting a bottle from the mess she’d made.

“Thank you,” the air was cool against her skin as she lifted herself further from the water, heat spiralling through her veins as she reached for the potion. The boy was dangerous in the best way.

Another reason she loved him. There seemed to be quite a lot now that she thought about it. 

“Please,” his eyes flashed wickedly as he held it just out of her reach, “let me.”

Her breath caught, anticipation sparking across her skin as she turned obligingly. Leaning back against the cool marble and into his hands.

He uncorked the slim glass bottle, lathing the potion carefully through her hair. He moved slowly, deliberately, the scent of honey and vanilla rising in the air as his long fingers teased over her scalp. Her neck. They strayed lower, working into the muscles of her shoulders.

“Oh my god,” she heard herself groan, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation spread through her. It smoothed over every nerve and sinew, turning her into jelly in the water.

It was heaven _ ,  _ or Valhalla, or whatever the going comparison was. It was  _ good. _

Then he stopped. 

She let out an audible whine, turning as he pulled away. Pouting at him even as her body  _ tingled _ .

“Rinse,” he instructed, his turn to raise an eyebrow at her as she glared at him. Stupid sexy bastard.

Fine. Two could play at that game.

Turning away she dipped her head carefully into the water, arching her back as she rinsed the lather from her hair. She made a show of it, letting it fall in thick waves over her breasts as she righted herself, hands slipping over her skin as she toyed with her hair.

Victory warmed low in her belly alongside a healthy amount of lust as he drew in a sharp breath. She savoured it, looking up at him with every scrap of innocence she could muster, “did I get it all?”

“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth, a muscle in his jaw jumping as he tensed beside the pool, holding a hand out to her, “you can come out now.”

“Hmm,” she tilted her head, trailing her fingers down her collarbone as she kept just out of his reach. Her hand slipped over the familiar ridges of her mark, trailing down to the swell of her breast, “I don’t know. It’s just so nice here…”

Her fingers traced lower, circling the taut peak of her breast, her nipples already pebbled with excitement as he watched her like a hawk.

“ _ Darcy.”  _ He groaned, rocking forward on his heels like he was one step away from jumping in after her.

She couldn’t keep her eyes from darting down, biting her lip as she saw the evidence of his arousal pulling at his already tight pants. Thank the gods for Asgardian tailors.

“Maybe you’re right,” she shrugged, slipping forward in the water, “help a girl out will you?”

The air was deliciously cold against her skin, steaming gently around her as she took Loki’s hand. Basking in the look m in his eyes as he helped her from the water.

“I want you to know I could have pulled you in just then,” she murmured, curling her hands in his shirt as she sank herself against him, “very easily in fact. But I didn’t. You’re welcome.”

“Why not?” He asked, his voice a base note of desire that had her grinning as he traced patterns low against her back.

“Because I knew that if you looked at me like  _ this _ in  _ there _ , there was a very good chance I would have forgotten how to breathe and drowned.”

He laughed, the sound warming her up as she pressed against him. Stealing his body heat for her own and not caring a bit how damp he got in the process. 

“Minx.” He whispered, his magic washing over her and stealing the moisture from her skin. 

“ _ Tease,”  _ she smiled back, anticipation coiling low against her spine as she slipped her fingers into the neckline of his tunic.

“You must know,” his eyes turned unexpectedly serious, her breath catching as he held her even closer, “I would do anything for you Darcy Lewis.”

The words fluttered inside her, a warm pulse of feeling like butterflies in her stomach.

“Anything?” She whispered back, losing herself in his touch all over again. The rough weave of his shirt scraping deliciously against her skin as she looked up at him.

“ _ Anything _ .” He said it like an inevitably. The darkest threat and sweetest promise. Like he’d burn cities for her, or compose sonnets. Like he’d rearrange the universe just because she asked.

“There was something...” she said, a fantasy she’d toyed with a few times since they’d been in New York. One she knew was probably impossible but couldn’t quite give up on anyway, “I don’t know though, no, y’know what it’s fine. This is all I need.”

She shook it off, unwilling to press him further. He’d gone far enough for her already. This was enough. 

He would always be enough, just as he was.

“Come with me,” he murmured, pulling her back into the bedroom. Her heart picked up with every step, warmth flushing through her with every whisper-soft brush of his skin against hers, “ _ sit _ .”

She did as he asked, tucking her legs up under her as he knelt beside her. His dark hair spilling over his collar as he pulled her hands back into his. 

“Now, Darcy,” he murmured, brushing a heated kiss to her forehead before drawing back again, “name it.”

She bit her lip, torn between desire and uncertainty. Still unsure how to say it, or even if she  _ should _ say it at all. 

“Okay.”

  
  



	32. Anything for Love (Even That)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING ALL YE WHO ENTER THIS CHAPTER! HERE BE SMUT! LOTS AND LOTS OF SMUT!
> 
> I hope y’all like it, especially you DH - I only hope it lives up to the hype! 😉😉😉

 

 

Loki needed this, her touch, her confidence. 

Half mad with desire already as the weight of the day fell away, replaced with her. Only her.

“Okay,” she nodded, worrying at her lip as she met his gaze, unbearably uncertain in the low light,  “but it might freak you out, and, like - just know that you can  _ totally _ say no and we’ll pretend I never brought it up. Okay? I don’t... I don’t wanna ruin this, Loki.”

Confusion furrowed his brow, rubbing his hands gently over her wrists as he tried to make sense of her sudden change in attitude, “you couldn’t if you tried, Darcy. You can ask me anything, you know that.”

“I- I want to see you,” she said, heat blooming like roses in her cheeks as her eyes dipped over him, “the… other you. I want to… I want to know all of you.  _ Touch _ all of you.”

His fingers tightened sharply, making her gasp as he pulled back on instinct. Holding her away from him like she might strike at any moment. 

“No you don’t.”

His stomach rebelled at the idea, ice settling in his veins as he watched her with something approaching panic.

“I do,” she said, unwavering even now, “I uh… I  _ really do.  _ But I understand if you don’t want me too. If you’re not ready to share that side of yourself yet, I get it and it’s  _ totally  _ okay. Like I said we can just pretend I never said anything, I  _ shouldn’t _ have said anything. Stupid big mouth.”

A muscle in his jaw clenched, heart squeezing as she rambled on. He had said he would do anything for her, hadn’t he?

Even  _ that _ ?

He recoiled at the thought of it, of exposing her to the monster he barely knew himself. A creature he wouldn’t recognise in the mirror. 

Her eyes never left him, so earnest even as he struggled with himself.

“I would deny you nothing,” he said at last, shoulders slumping as he released his hold on her wrists, “if you desire it it’s yours.”

“No, Loki,” she reached for him then, capturing his hands in hers and leaning close, “not unless you want too. I don’t want to push you, I  _ never _ want to push you.”

Even now she was kindness itself, sweet benediction with her worried eyes and parted lips.

“I want to please you,” he murmured, raising their intertwined hands and kissing her knuckles before releasing her, “always. Let me... do this for you.”

Lifting his shirt over his head, he cast it aside. She deserved to see it all, if she really wanted too. She hadn’t run before after all. 

_ Then again,  _ the darkness said,  _ that was only a taste of his horror.  _ Here, shirtless and exposed, she would see so much more of the beast.

But she said she loved him. And he… well, words to him were game pieces, they could be twisted and turned into a thousand different ploys. Real devotion lived in action.

“We can stop,” she said, brushing his hair back from his face tenderly as he settled himself again, “if… if you don’t like it, or if it gets too much, we’ll stop.”

“I have done nothing to deserve you, Darcy Lewis.”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” she smiled, some of the colour coming back to her face, “fighting nazis, saving Jane, and Thor,  _ and _ me was a pretty good start. Not to mention that thing you did with the shampoo just now…”

He laughed despite himself as he pulled her hands away again, gently this time. He wasn’t convinced he could work the necessary magic with her touch so warm against his skin.

It was unreal to him, the levity fading fast as tension pulled tight in his belly. A perverse tinge of desire tempering the fear as he reached for the cords of his magic. 

She sat back on her heels, dark hair slipping from her shoulder and revealing the rising curve of her breasts as she waited. He memorised the image. Her ivory skin and rose-blush nipples, thighs pressed tight together in the silken sheets as she watched him. 

He held it behind his eyelids, heat stirring in his blood even as he let the spell slip away from him. The unfamiliar rush of magic making him shudder.

The air felt different when he opened his eyes again, heavy and warm against his skin. Her gaze a physical weight as she looked up at him in something that couldn’t possibly be wonder. 

“You really _are_ beautiful, Loki,” she breathed, tasting the swell of her lip as she met his eyes. “You need to know that. I’ve thought it since the first time I saw you like this, your eyes… I don’t even think I can describe them…”

He didn’t know what to say, silent under her gaze as she scoured him with her eyes.

“And the marks...” she lifted her hand to her chest, touching her own scars as she looked at his, “can I touch you?”

Confusion thundered inside of him, fear, revulsion, desperate burning  _ want.  _ Her touch, her acceptance… he craved it as much as he feared it. 

“If you like,” he nodded, holding himself still as she approached. She was slow, cautious, reaching for him like he was a wounded animal who might strike at any moment.

Which wasn’t entirely inaccurate after all.

Still, he held his position. Tensing as her fingertips met his skin, tracing a line along his collarbone. Her touch was like fire, bright and burning as it seared across his over-sensitive skin. He let out a hiss, body arching at the sensation as it seemed to pull on all his nerves at once. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” she yanked her hand away immediately, eyes widening to the size of dinner plates, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m such an idiot, I-“

“Do it again,” he panted, voice strained in his throat as he fought for breath. Body alive in a way he had no experience with, no frame work for.

“I… what? Are you sure?”

He nodded, his need for her stronger than ever as the aftershocks of her touch worked through him. “Please.”

She hesitated, teeth sinking into her lip as she reached for him again. Painfully slow as her fingers fluttered over his skin, touching him lightly,  _ carefully.  _ She ran them slowly over his cheek, his throat, tracing a line he couldn’t see.

“Is this okay?” She whispered, crawling closer on the bed as he groaned. Each new sensation tattooing itself into him. Burning through muscle and bone right to his centre, the throbbing core that only wanted more of this. More of her.

“Yes,” he replied, opening his eyes to watch her, hypnotised by the contrast of her milk pale skin against the unfamiliar blue of his, “don’t stop.”

The exhale of her breath against his neck was the sweetest torture, her touch growing firmer, more confident. She traced the length of his arms, following the ridges and muscles of him, down to his hands, his palms, fingers curling around his before she pulled back up again. Smoothing her hands against his chest.

“Your skin feels amazing,” she murmured, eyes wide with fascination as she traced the lines over his heart, “it’s like soft marble, not cold exactly but cool, in like… in a  _ really  _ good way.”

His body ached, desire thrumming through his veins as he fought to remain steady. Part of him begged to give in to the monster entirely, to throw her back into the sheets and claim her,  _ mark _ her. Sink his sharp teeth into the soft skin of her neck, her breast, bury himself in her slick heat and fuck her until they both forgot who they were.

He railed against it, rigid and still beneath her as she worked. 

“Can I kiss you?” She whispered, temptation itself as she ducked her head closer to his. Her pupils so swollen he barely remembered the blue of them. 

He didn’t reply, couldn’t, too desperate for the feel of her as he caught her mouth with his. Her gasp echoed through him, her hands tightening against his shoulders as he dragged her into his lap. Sullying her body with his touch even as he demanded more.

The heat was relentless, pulsing. He used her breathlessness against her, plunging deeper into the warmth of her mouth. He wanted her taste, her desire, to steal the air from her lungs and keep it greedily for himself.

She squirmed against him and for a moment he was terrified he’d gone to far, that she’d suddenly realised what manner of creature it was she toyed with. But then he heard it, the desperate little gasp of her moan as her hips ground down against him, the sensation rushing through him like lightning. 

He could feel her heat through the meagre layer of fabric between them, wet and ready as she rocked against his hardness. He clenched his fingers tight into her hip, holding her closer as he reached to tilt her head back with the other hand, exposing her body to his hungry gaze.

“Loki,” she murmured his name like a prayer and he almost lost himself then and there, surging up beneath her with a desperate thrust as he palmed her breast. Rolling the tight bud of her nipple between his fingers and being rewarded by a gasp that made him tremble. “I’m-” she struggled with the words, full lips slack as she tilted closer to him, “I’m the one supposed to be touching  _ you _ .” 

“So touch me,” he demanded, there was no room for self hatred in him now, only  _ her. _

She chuckled, her hair slipping over her shoulders as she moved back on the bed. He mourned the loss of her heat, teeth gritted against a growl as she pulled away from him, the light brush of her hand over his heart their only contact.

“Like this?” She teased, running her fingertips across him in a slow, deliberate caress. 

“ _ More.” _

Her teeth sank into the swell of her bottom lip again, eyes flashing wickedly as she trailed her hands slowly across his ribs. Fire followed in her wake, stretching from the place she touched over every inch of skin and sinew and leaving nothing unburnt.

She traced his navel tracking the ridges of his skin and making him groan. His head lolling back as the feeling shot directly to his aching groin.

“This?” She asked, brushing the flat of her palm across his stomach, between the plains of his hip bones. Teasing the edge of his waistband with her touch.

“ _ Darcy,”  _ his voice was almost unrecognisable, a low growl of warning edged by a high whine of desperation as she started to unlace the fall of his trousers.

She worked slowly, methodically, a low gasp echoing from her lips as she drew them open and freed his cock at last. His head was swimming, lost between desire and desperation even as his own fears returned. That he might scare her off still, even now.

_ “Faen!” _ he swore, a desperate cry in a long dead tongue as she ran her fingers over the length of him. Warm hand closing around him and  _ tugging. _

It suddenly didn’t matter that he didn’t recognise his own hardness with its purple flush and unfamiliar ridges, because he  _ felt  _ it alright. Stars bursting behind his eyes as she stroked him like she was born to it. 

“Oh,” she feigned surprise, licking her lips as he forced his gaze back to her, “like  _ that  _ then. _ ” _

“You are-” her hand worked over him as the tension in his belly clenched and pulsed, “you are playing with fire, girl.”

Or ice even. Frost. He didn’t know anymore. He didn’t care.

“Mmm,” her eyes sparked, loosening her hold on him and making him shudder, “want me to stop?”

He glared, desperation scratching beneath his skin as she slowly circled a fingertip over the head of him, each deliberate motion tearing more and more of his control away from him as heat gathered low against his spine. 

“Well?” She asked, batting her eyes innocently.

“Don’t you dare.”

She smiled, face lighting up as she crawled closer to him, taking him once more firmly in her hand.

“Something so beautiful deserves to be appreciated properly,” she made a little humming noise in the back of her throat, tongue snaking out to taste his collarbone, “don't you think?”

“I-” he couldn’t think, couldn’t move, heart thundering so fast he could barely breathe as she held him captive in her sway.

“It deserves to be  _ worshipped.” _

He swallowed hard, unable to look away as she sank slowly down his body. Pressing long lingering kisses to his foreign skin, tasting every line and ridge of him as if it were the finest ambrosia.

The pressure in his bones grew, a desperate throbbing pulse as she lapped at his navel, the line between his hips, then her mouth closed around him and he forgot how to breathe.

She was warmth incarnate, smooth wet heat as she laved her tongue against him. Indulging him in leisurely cat like strokes before sealing her lips around his length and  _ sucking _ .

Her head bobbed between his thighs, his lusty pants mixing with the obscene wet slap of her mouth against his skin. He could feel her every moan, the sound vibrating through him as she undid him with her clever tongue.

Even the sight of his unfamiliar hand curling in her hair couldn’t dim the feeling, the ridged skin and dark nails inconsequential as she worked her spell against him. The sensation grew in an ever tightening spiral. Electricity rushing like blood in his veins as it pulled tighter and tighter.

“Wait,” he cried, pulling her back as his teetered on the edge of oblivion, “ _ wait- _ ”

It was glorious but it wasn’t enough.

He needed to be inside her,  _ now _ , the feeling more urgent than any he’d ever known. He needed to claim her. To drive himself into her and fill her completely.

She drew back with dazed eyes. Her lips slick and parted as she looked at him with a question on her face. Softening his hand against her cheek he kissed her, tasting himself on her tongue. His salt and her sweetness.

“I need you,” he whispered against her mouth, struggling to restrain himself as the desperation clawed at him, “to be inside you.”

“Yes,” she tugged at his hair, his skin, pulling at him eagerly, “I want you,  _ fuck,  _ Loki,  _ please _ .”

He pressed her back into the sheets, shaking with the need to control himself as he settled himself between her welcoming thighs. He pressed into her, slick cock sinking easily into her heat as she gasped beneath him. A desperate little mewling sound that made him quake almost as much of the  _ feel  _ of her did. Tight and wet and  _ his.  _ All his.

“Yes,” she rocked up against him, clenching tight around him as he basked in the feeling of her, “that feels -  _ god _ \- it feels so good. You feel so good.”

He swallowed, throat tight with desire as he began to move. Slowly at first but with a rapidly increasing desperation as she arched beneath him. His control slipped him entirely as she eagerly met his every thrust, a slave to sensation as she bucked and moaned in time with his desperate grunting breath.

“ _ No _ ,” he demanded as her eyes fluttered shut, bracing himself on one arm and seizing her face with the other, “look at me.”

He needed her too. His whole body burning as he worked into her. She blinked, eyes opening hazily and meeting his.

“It-” she gasped as he drove into her, tightening his grip as she threatened to shut them again. “It just feels so… Mmm...”

“Please,” he heard himself beg, a desperate plea as fire roared inside him, driving him ever closer to the edge, “I need you to  _ look _ at me.”

She did as he asked, forcing her eyes open with renewed determination. He needed to know he was the one she was seeing. That  _ he’d _ done this to her; the familiar stranger he saw staring back in the reflection of her eyes, a desperate panting beast wearing his face in the wrong colour. He saw his red eyes and scarred cheeks but more than that he saw her  _ wonder _ . 

Her desire. 

It flooded her features. Her mouth curved in a wicked smile as she looked up at him fully, fearless and  _ joyful.  _ He lost himself in it, drowning in the depths of her pleasure as her legs trembled against his. Biting her lip raw as she choked on his name.

He felt her clench around him in a rush of wet heat, her head thrown back at last as she cried out in pleasure. It pushed him to the edge, no longer caring who he was or what he looked like, not when he could inspire such feeling in her. 

His hips snapped faster, a desperate unsteady rhythm as he buried himself inside her. Teeth closing around her pulse on instinct, marking her as the feeling crested. Her gasp echoed through him, sweeping him away like a wave as he spilled himself inside of her. 

A molton rush of pleasure so intense he wasn’t sure he knew how to come down. 

 

—-

 

Darcy had never been banged so hard the room started spinning before.

She’d also never banged a Jotun before, and she had to say, the rest of the world was  _ really  _ missing out. The feeling of his cool velvet skin pressed against hers was like a drug, and those  _ ridges,  _ she’d never imagined they went all the way down. But they did. And  _ damn  _ was she grateful for it.

Her neck throbbed, a pleasure-pain tingle of feeling that only made the aftershocks more intense. She rubbed her hand over it, thighs squeezing weakly against the sensation as she turned to stare at him.

Talk about a love bite.

“Holy shit,” she mumbled when she remembered how to speak, “that was…” she patted his arm, unable to process words properly, “ _ thank you.” _

“Thank  _ you _ ,” he rumbled back, a thin sheen of sweat glinting against his cerulean skin, “I never knew… I didn’t think…”

“Thinking is overrated,” she sighed, wiggling closer to his side and curling her fingers into his. Fascinated by the inky colour of his nails and the delicate markings that traced his skin like ley lines, “I’m all about the feelings myself, and that felt really,  _ really  _ good.”

“Did it?” He asked, the faint shadow of uncertainty back in his beautiful red eyes. The self loathing she was desperate to stamp out.

“I’m sorry, did the gasping and moaning not give that away?” She teased brightly, propping her head against his chest and luxuriating in the sweet chill of his skin against hers, “or the desperate cries of  _ ‘Please Loki more? _ ’”

Jeez the feeling of him inside of her, hot and cold combining into one raw pulse of desire was some next level shit. She nearly came all over again just thinking about it.

He smiled, familiar and unfamiliar all at once as his fingers tightened around hers. The silence was warmth itself and no matter how good  _ that  _ had felt, this was better.

Just them. Together in the moment. The way he looked at her made her chest ache, the sweetest pang she’d ever felt. A feeling she never wanted to let go of as he traced circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.

This was a side of Loki that no one got to see. 

No one but  _ her _ .

This was the reason she’d never need words from him.

“Are  _ you _ okay?” She asked quietly, needing to reassure him even now. To know that she hadn’t broken him with her selfish desires.

“I think I am,” he said, sounding almost surprised at himself. His red eyes heavy and lidded when they met hers, “I didn’t know what pleasure could be found in this form.”

She sure as hell did, she’d felt it,  _ seen  _ it _ ,  _ losing herself in his gaze when he’d begged her to look at him. How could she refuse? His pupils were black hollows against the crimson, blown wide with need as he’d taken her like she was the only woman in the world he’d ever wanted.

“A lot,” she grinned, “trust me on that, it’s  _ a lot  _ of pleasure _.  _ Although I’m pretty sure that goes for whatever form you take, you are damn good at this sex thing.”

His teeth were sharp and white when he grinned, head falling back into the pillow as he huffed out a laugh, “and yet why do I still feel like I could learn a thing or two from you, my lady?”

“Because I am also very good at this sex thing,” she chuckled, practically purring as lethargy settled over her, a delicious kind of tiredness that only came with complete satisfaction and abject happiness, “as I will be happy to prove again when I remember how my legs work. I also owe you a love bite.”

She bit lightly at the skin over his heart, earning a delicious chuckle as his fingers found the mark on her throat, tracing it lightly and making her groan in sleepy pleasure. 

“Hmm, later sweeting,” he murmured, releasing her just long enough to snag the sheet and pull it over them, “we have all the time in the world.”

“I like the sound of that,” she hummed, curling into him as the hush fell over them, “night, handsome.”

Sleep was already waiting for her, warm and comforting as it rolled over her like cotton wool clouds. She was already halfway to unconsciousness when she heard him whisper, “good night, Elskan Min.”

She wasn’t sure why he was calling her an elk, but it sounded so sweet when he did. The hushed timbre stayed with her, a warm glow that kept the nightmares from her as she slept deeply and truly for the first time in a long time.   
  
  


 

 


	33. A Girl’s Gotta Do (What A Girl’s Gotta Do)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we’ve all had some refreshing smut let’s get back to the story shall we! I really hope you enjoy it lovely people! 💜(Andyoudonthatemetoomuchfortheending😛)

 

The morning came all too soon.

Darcy awoke before the sun had fully risen, the world held in that sweet space between day and night when everything was just a little bit softer.

Loki was still asleep, his breathing an even huff against her hair. Steady and grounding as she wiggled in his grasp, her arm cramping beneath her where he’d bundled her in close.

The God of Mischief was a hugger.

It might have been impossible to fathom in the daylight hours, but get the boy into bed and there was no question about it. He had her trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey in all those long limbs of his. 

She rolled her eyes, grinning to herself as she tried to gently prise a pale arm loose. He’d transformed back at some point in the night, not that it mattered. It was still  _ him _ after all. Still them, together, a perfect moment that couldn’t stay perfect forever. 

Reality was waiting for her, and it was pissed she’d kept it at bay for so long. 

_ We have all the time in the world. _

His words echoed back to her, her stomach squeezing at the memory. She loved him but he was _super_ wrong.

They had to return to Odin to face their judgement, nor to mention the fact Thanos was still out there. Hanging over them like a blade. If he got the stones, if he completed his mission…

She couldn’t let it happen. She couldn’t risk losing anyone else. And there was only one thing she knew for sure she could do to stymie the big purple buzzkill.

After all, Loki wasn’t the only one who could do stupid, silent things for the greater good.

Exhaling softly she forced herself to move, playing a careful game of one woman twister to extract herself from the sheets and her grabby god boyfriend. Loki grumbled as he rolled into the space she left, one long fingered hand reaching vaguely in her direction. She pushed her pillow into his arms and watched as he buried his face into it. Snoring gently as he settled back to sleep.

She hesitated, a sharp pang of feeling echoing inside of her as she looked down at him for a moment longer. Trying to memorise him just a little bit better. The line of his jaw and the black of his hair, the way his face relaxed when he slept and made him look a few hundred years younger at least.

He was the reason she was doing this.

So she better get doing. 

Snatching up some clothes she headed for the door, her heart already pounding high in her chest.

She needed to get to a safe distance, not sure exactly how much damage she was about to do.

She’d never tried to destroy an infinity stone before.

 

—-

Darcy was missing.

It took him far too long to realise it. He’d been too caught up with how  _ right  _ everything had been, his limbs aching with sweet lethargy. Content to remain there with her until there until someone came and physically dragged him away. 

Only she wasn’t there at all. Not any more at least.

Hurling the pillow he had hold of away he shot upright, instantly awake as panic lanced through him like a blade. 

The room was empty.

The washroom and balcony too. Everything silent and still in the early morning light. He could feel his pulse thundering in his throat, thick enough to choke on as he forced himself to take stock of their chambers before he unravelled any further.

There were no signs of struggle.  _ Good. _

Her leggings were missing, his shirt too, both taken from where they'd been abandoned the night before. Also good. 

Wherever she’d gone she’d had time to dress first.

Forcing himself to exhale he clothed himself in double time as he headed for the door. She had left to see Jane perhaps, or merely gone hunting for food in the kitchens below. They  _ had  _ built up quite an appetite after all.

The memory rose, a heavy sort of warmth between his ribs, the sensation of searing pleasure followed by absolute contentment. He was still half drunk on it. On her. Her smile, her laugh, the way her hands had pressed softly into his, fingers lacing together like they were made for it.

He had to find her. 

The hallway was deserted. The door to the master suite was tightly closed, all of the doors were. He cast his magic out, feeling the gentle healing spells still hanging in the air. The warmth of life beyond.

Not her though.

Darcy wasn’t here.

Turning sharply he headed down, taking the stairs two at a time as he cast again and again in search of her. Frustration building inside of his bones as it came back empty every time.

He was halfway to the kitchen before it hit. Someone had broken the wards at the edge of the property, the feeling vibrating through him with a distant buzz of magic.

_ Her  _ magic.

She had left the lodge.

Darcy wasn’t the type for early morning walks, if she’d gone it was for a reason. Because someone had taken her or… or…

He couldn’t finish the thought, shoving through the back doors and running for the forest. Wherever she was going it wouldn’t be without him.

Not ever again.

 

**—-**

 

The forest was straight out of a dreamscape, everything on Asgard was. A big beautiful fairytale built on bones. 

Golden light was just beginning to spill through the canopy above, lighting Darcy’s way as she picked carefully through the trees. The ground was mossy, veined with roots just waiting to trip her up if she wasn’t careful.

So she was careful.

She watched her step, fingers clenched tight around the heavy pendant hanging around her neck as she navigated the unfamiliar terrain.  What she really needed a clearing, a good sized space where she could set the stone down and have at it without risking half the forest. Turning east she tracked a path through the places the trees seemed to grow thinnest, sighing in relief as she spied a meadow at last. 

It was perfect. A few feet of uninterrupted dew-soaked grass ringed with sleeping flowers. A thing of absolute beauty that she was probably about to blow to hell.

Still, it had to be done.

There was a boulder not far off the centre, her heartbeat somehow ratcheting even higher as she approached it. It was waist high and sturdy, not budging when she shoved her weight against it, the top worn flat and smooth. A perfect shelf. Like the forest knew what she wanted it for.

Sending up a brief prayer to whatever gods or spirits might be looking out of her she pulled the necklace from her throat.

She was gonna do it. She was  _ actually _ gonna do it.

Which was fucking  _ terrifying _ .

Inhaling sharply she closed her eyes, drawing up the memory of Loki again, his green eyes and his red eyes. She thought of Jane and Thor and the disgustingly adorable amount of love they radiated every time they were in the same room together.

She thought of Earth, and Asgard, Frigga and Eric and Starbucks and magic and  _ life.  _ All the places she had seen. All the places she might  _ never _ see. 

Damn. No, she couldn’t think like that. She couldn’t chicken out now. She still remembered the visions after all, seeing first hand the kind of horror Thanos wanted to release if he got his hands on the stone. Something dark and broken and  _ painful,  _ entirely without light to balance it.

It wasn’t chaos, it was just  _ death. _

And she had to stop it. It was what she had been waiting for. 

She was Darcy  _ fricking _ Lewis damnit, if anyone could do it it was her.

Exhaling as she opened the locket and tipped out its contents. The stone clattered free, gleaming innocently in the early morning light. Just a normal chunk of amber that happened to be glowing slightly.

_ Right. _

Snorting quietly to herself she tucked the empty pendant away in case she ever needed it again. 

_ Just breathe Darcy,  _ she coached herself, rolling up her sleeves and sticking her hands out over the stone,  _ nice and easy now. You got this. _

Her magic simmered to the surface, a familiar weight she leant into as she tried to clear her thoughts. She didn’t know if there was a particular spell for this kind of thing, she figured she’d just wing it and hope.

“ _ Darcy _ !” She froze as the shout sliced through the still morning air, sending pigeons and sparrows flying. Only one fat black crow ignoring them as Loki stalked into the clearing.

_ Fuck. _

“Good morning,” she said brightly in an attempt to cover her wince, pulling her hands away and stepping quickly in front of the boulder to hide his view, “sleep well?”

“Really,” his exasperation was palpable, “what  _ exactly _ do you think you’re doing?”

“If I said I was out taking a morning stroll would you believe me?” She asked with a winning smile. His gaze narrowed, stepping to the side and fixing his eyes pointedly on the stone she was doing a terrible job of hiding, “thought not.”

He shook his head, gaze returning to hers and fixing her in place, “You know you can’t do this, Darcy, it’s too dangerous.”

Her stomach clenched, feeling his power rising warily around them. A faint whisper of a threat.

“I have too,” her fingers flexed, her own magic unfurling from her bones as she held her ground.

“You really don’t.” He took a careful step forward, brow furrowed so sharply he’d give himself wrinkles, “in fact, I  _ insist _ you don’t”

She saw him tensing, cool mint magic rushing up over her spine as he poised to lunge at her.

There was no choice. 

“Stop right there buddy,” she shouted, hurling her power out before he could move. It held, a heavy shield shimmering in the air between them like a soap bubble.

It was one of the first things he’d taught her. 

“Listen-”

“Nope,” she said, keeping her hands steady as she felt him push against it. Searching for a weakness she wouldn’t let him find, even if she wanted him too. She had to think bigger than that. 

Bigger than her own selfishness. 

“You’re gonna listen to _me_ , Loki. _”_ The words spilt out without permission, rushing straight from her chest as she tried to make him understand, “After what happened with Karen I never let myself get attached to anyone, _ever_ , so I never really cared if I lost them. But then I met Jane and Thor and you _. Especially you,_ you… you... _stubborn_ _bastard_. And if Thanos gets this stone and does what we all know he wants to do with it...” She shook her head at him, desperation coiled tight in her chest, “I can’t risk you, Loki.”

“Damn it, do you think I can risk you either?” He shouted back, pacing the edge of the barrier like a caged tiger, “this could  _ kill  _ you, and if it doesn’t I certainly will!”

His magic rose higher, sharper, she could feel it through the shield as he cast his hands over the surface of the bubble.

She had to do this. Soon. Like,  _ really  _ soon or he’d break through.

Or she’d give up.

“I’m stronger than I look,” she tried to joke, the words sticking to her tongue as she pressed her hand to his through the barrier, “you taught me that.”

“Darcy, I…” he stalled, this close she could she the worry in his eyes. The  _ fear. _

“I love you, okay, Loki,” she smiled at him, bracing herself for what she was about to do, “if this all goes to hell try and be good, okay? Well, not  _ too  _ good.”

She winked, heart squeezing as she whirled around. Her power rose hard and fast, the shield falling away as she cast everything she had at the stone. Spells for destruction, spells for undoing, spells for breaking. It all mixed with the chaos in her soul.

Spilling out of her in a soundless scream.

 


	34. Matter Over Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised I wouldn’t leave you hanging too long now didn’t I? 😛 I hope you enjoy this chapter gang, as always I remain a thirsty ho in need of constant validation!  
> Kisses! 💜💜💜

 

Loki had once said Darcy Lewis would be the death of him. He’d just never expected she would work _quite_ so hard to ensure it.

She was infuriating, she had been from the start. A force of nature, challenging him at every turn with her smiles and scowls and sarcastic comments. Stubbornly determined to work her way beneath his skin to the point where he could hardly think of a time _without_ her.

Or a future without her for that matter either.

His stomach plummeted, bile rising in his throat at the thought.

He had wanted freedom and she had granted it. He had wanted peace and she had bestowed it upon him. He had wanted a crown, but well, what use was it now? What was a King without his Queen? 

Eternity was too lonely a word to contemplate by himself.

Power tore through the air, a white hot glow as the barrier dropped and she focused all her abilities on the infinity stone. He swore in every language he knew as it filled the air, raising the hairs on the back of his neck and filling his mouth with the taste of starlight and smoke.

If she died now the fates themselves would _tremble_ with his fury, he would tear them to pieces and descend into death itself to drag her out himself.

Setting his jaw he pushed forward through the sharp pulse of energy, the heat of it tearing into his skin like a thousand scorching grains of sand as he drew his magic to him. He couldn’t pull her away, breaking the connection could kill her just as fast as letting her face it alone. But she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

He clenched his teeth, the muscles in his back straining as he raised his hands. Forcing his magic to the surface and joining it with hers.

Pain scalded through him, a thousand lightning bolts of energy shooting straight into his bones as he worked. It was everywhere, ancient and elemental as it burnt through every nerve he had. His magic shuddered, grating against hers as she fought him back on instinct

 _“Let me help,”_ he hissed, not sure if the words were more spoken or thought as he raised his power further, “ _Norns, you stubborn wench just let me-”_

The moment held, an endless unbearable shaking sort of failure as he grappled with his seidr. Each spark searing into his flesh and scarring something deep within.

Then it changed. 

It was so sudden he almost fell, her magic giving way beneath him. A liquid rush he could pour himself into, melting and merging with hers until he wasn’t sure where his power ended or hers began. 

It was frost coated leaves and warm dripping honey. Gold and green, light and dark, hot and cold. A perfect complement of opposites that somehow fitted exactly as it rushed out of them, steel strong and unstoppable.

He felt it like adrenaline in his veins, the pain fading as it took over. Bright and contrary as they pressed their will against an object as old as the universe itself. No spells or clever words just a single unified desire to end it.

The stones had been born from chaos before the first star had ever shone, made to hold absolute dominion over their element. Was it not fitting that in the end they would return to chaos too? 

A high-pitched whine filled the air, rattling his teeth as the magic swelled, doubling around itself again and again until at last, with a great shuddering screech, the stone shattered.

He exhaled hard, hands falling slack as the power died down all at once. Leaving him empty and ringing in the sudden silence.

“That was…” Darcy panted beside him, staring blankly at the broken boulder where the infinity stone had once rested, “ _neat.”_

He didn’t stop to think. Seizing her firmly about the waist and crushing his mouth to hers, a desperate kiss that made his spine itch as she gasped against him.

“Try something so abjectly _stupid_ again without me and I will lock you up until you learn some sense.” He growled against her lips, desire flooding his senses with the dizzying awareness that they were still alive, “do you understand?”

“Kinky,” she replied dazedly, blinking at him twice before her eyes cleared, “wait, so you’re saying I can only do dumb shit when you’re around then? Way to cramp my style, dude.”

“That is _exactly_ what I’m saying, Elskan Min,” he tightened his hold on her, sucking in deep breaths. A raw sort of urgency tightening in his veins as he revelled in his own mortality.

“That’s a two way street, buddy,” she grinned, smile turning wicked as she pulled at his collar, “and hey, why do you keep calling me a Mini Elk? It’s cute but like… kinda a weird pet name there.”

His chest squeezed, the rush of desire lost to the panic spiking through his gut as he met her curious gaze. He’d hardly been conscious of the words but they were out there now, and he had used up his quota of lies to her.

“The phrase is _Elskan Min,_ ” he corrected, clearing his throat awkwardly, “It’s old Norse. It means... ‘ _beloved.’”_

 

—-

 

_Beloved._

There was a word and a half.

Her pulse seemed to echo it in a thundering rhythm, _beloved, beloved, beloved._

“Oh,” she heard herself whisper, mouth slack as her heart hurled itself at her ribs like a rabid bear, the primal urge to bang him in the middle of the crater they’d made simmering down in its wake, “it does?”

“It does.” He confirmed, eyes cautious even now. A wafer thin cover over the raw panic beneath. 

“ _Nerd,_ ” she couldn’t keep from grinning, stretching up on her tiptoes to kiss him again, and again, and… well, again, “I love it,” she murmured between kisses, “that makes you my tiny elk too.” 

“ _Darcy._ ”

“Very big Elk?” She offered teasingly as he rolled his eyes at her, feeling his smile against her lips as he kissed her again. 

“You are incorrigible.”

“You belove it,” she beamed, pulling back at last and lacing her fingers through his.

“I suppose I do,” he sighed, kissing her again. The tenderness turning heated as his teeth tugged at her lip, a careful graze of passion that had her squirming even as he pulled away with dark eyes, “well, what now, my lady?”

“We should head back to the lodge,” she licked her lips, savouring the taste of him as she pulled him towards the trees, “We destroyed an infinity stone, after all, I say we’ve earned breakfast”

And then some.

The feeling chased her, elation making her light headed and just a little giddy as they traversed through the trees. The walk back to the lodge was much quicker than the one there had been. 

_Beloved._

Literally _much-loved_.

The real world could suck it, she was _good_.

“Darcy! What happened?” Jane rushed forward as soon as they broke the tree line, Thor right behind her.

“Janey! Oh my god you look _amazing!”_

The bish was damn near glowing, hands strong and firm as she caught Darcy by the shoulders. The bulky dressing over her wound had been replaced with a slender white bandage beneath her sleek Asgardian dress. 

Almost-immortality suited the hell out of her.

“Thanks to you guys,” Jane smiled, enveloping Darcy in a hug that warmed her all the way down to her toes, “Thank you Darcy, and you Loki - Thor told me of your bravery.”

“He did?” Loki asked, Darcy turning back just in time to see his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

“I did,” Thor nodded solemnly, “you took a great risk brother, and saved us all.”

Loki gaped, green eyes wide in his face, “Yes, well, it had to be done I suppose.”

“It didn’t,” Thor said, stepping forward and seizing Loki in what looked like a rib-crushing embrace, “but you did it anyway. I admit, when you… I thought… but I should have known better. Trusted you better. I don’t know if I can ever repay you for this, brother.”

His big blue eyes were shining with tears, face scrunched up as he squeezed Loki like a tube of toothpaste. Darcy’s heart ached. It was easy to forget Thor’s pain when she’d been so consumed with her own, but he was just as relieved Jane was okay as she was, maybe even more so. Their love was kinda ridiculous after all, the kind made for movies and novel length poetry. 

“Er… you’re welcome?” Loki said, patting Thor awkwardly on the back before he pried himself loose. He cleared his throat, the gesture obviously affecting him more than he’d allow them to see, “I’m just pleased it all worked out.”

“Indeed,” dashing at his eyes with the back of his hand Thor drew back at last, returning to Jane with a watery smile, “now tell us good friends, what was the source of such commotion?”

Oh yeah. _That._

Glancing over her shoulder, Darcy looked back over the forest. There was a thin plume of amber smoke floating above the treetops.

“You guys saw that, huh?” 

“Saw it? Darce, the whole building shook, not to mention the massive flash of light and the birds taking off all at once,” Jane smacked her arm, surprisingly strong for a near-dead-woman, “what did you _do_?”

“Oh y’know,” she shrugged, “just destroyed an infinity stone, no biggie.”

“You…” Jane stared at her.

Thor was less lost for words, “Norns above, you _destroyed_ an _infinity stone?”_

“What?” She shot a quick glance at Loki, licking her teeth as she caught his gaze, “like it’s hard? Anyway, Loki helped a bit.”

His eyes narrowed as she shot a teasing smile at him, heat finding its way back into her bloodstream as she remembered just how close to destruction they’d both come.

“Lady Darcy, Brother, I…” Thor shook his massive blonde head, Darcy only paying half an eyes worth of attention to him as Loki stalked slowly towards her, “I am without words. You must need rest, come, both of you, the barge is ready for us. We will feast on the way, Fandral thinks if we leave now we should be back at the palace with a day to spare.”

“No.” Loki cut him off, his eyes not moving from her. Not for a second. 

“What?” Thors brow furrowed in puzzlement, adorably lost as he looked between them.

Darcy’s breath caught, heart rolling a full three-sixty as he prowled towards her. A slow, menacing gait that made her feel like a baby bunny facing a snake.

A really, really _sexy_ snake _._

“We aren’t leaving until sundown,” Loki said, his gaze so intense it made her shiver. A tremulous frisson of excitement racing up and down her spine,  “it is a miracle we survived and I intend to celebrate that fact appropriately first. See to your woman, brother. If anyone interrupts me and mine before the sun is kissing the horizon I will personally see them go the same way as that _blasted_ stone.”

“Loki wha-” her words ended in a squeak as he caught up to her at last, seizing her firmly around the waist and slinging her over his shoulder. “Hey,” she protested, slapping her hands against his back even as she fought back a laugh at his dramatics, “you said we could eat!”

“Oh yes,” he replied without missing a step, voice low and utterly devastating, “I quite intend to _devour_ you.”

Darcy gasped, blood rushing in a two way split between her face and her thighs. 

 “Okay, yup, I can live with that,” she squeaked. Thor was blushing like a tomato behind them, Jane’s face pressed into her palm as Darcy shrugged back at them, “see ya later then, kids.”

“ _Much later.”_ Loki called, setting her giggling even as her body thrummed with anticipation.

The palace could wait.

They had _much_ better plans.

 

 


	35. Glorious Purpose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd here we will be taking one last dip into the smut lake before the big finale 😉 I really hope you enjoy it guys!
> 
> Oh! Also a lil reminder I am on tumblr at - anonymousmink.tumblr.com and sometimes I post fic art and stuff, so if you ever wanna hit me up there I would be stoked to see you! 🥰

 

She tasted like divinity. 

Her body was a feast he would never tire of as he worshipped her with his mouth.

He hadn’t stopped for air since he’d dragged her up to their room, pressing her into the sheets and kissing her with all he primal hunger in his soul before he made good on his promise. He had said he would devour her, so devour her he did. Sampling every inch she’d let him before he settled between her thighs.

_ Divinity _ .

He found himself lost in it, each mewl and moan he won from her ingraining itself into his memory, a sacred hymn he would relive again and again if she let him.

He was a man possessed, needing to please her. To  _ punish  _ her. Punish her for risking herself like she had, for teasing him, for loving him and making him love her in return. It overtook him, a desperate, thrumming need to drive all thoughts from her head but thoughts of him. He ignored his own desire in favour of stoking hers into an inferno, driving her up and over again and again until she was shaking with it.

“L-Loki,” she stuttered, his name the sweetest sound he’d ever heard as her thighs clenched weakly against his shoulders, “please, I can’t… I need…”

“Tell me, beloved.” He growled drawing back only to replace his tongue with his fingers. Tracing deceptively gentle swirls into her heated flesh as she shuddered and gasped, “tell me what you need and it is yours.”

Her face was flushed, lips bitten red and eyes almost lost to the black swell of her desire as they met his. Starry and celestial as sweat glistened on her peach soft skin.

“ _ You,”  _ she managed, her fingers tightening in his hair, a desperate little tug as she tried to pull him to her level, “Jesus, Loki, I need you. Please.”

Victory surged inside him, a red hot pulse as the dam he’d built broke. The desire became too much, too sweet. He groaned low in his throat licking the salt from her skin as he climbed her body. 

He loved her like this, desperate and dishevelled with eyes only for him. 

“Are you sure?” He whispered, kissing her softly. Gently. Letting her taste herself on his tongue as he drew her shaking thighs up around his hips, “Are you quite certain  _ this _ is what you desire?” 

He punctuated his words with lazy circles of his fingers across the swollen heat of her sex, feeling her tense every time he brushed past her sweetest spot. His own need poised ready against her, aching with desire even as he held himself at bay.

“Yes,” she was breathing hard, her hands tracing across his skin, scoring up over his ribs before clenching sharply into his back, “I am more than certain, now, would you please quit being such a tease and _fuck_ me already?”

He didn’t reply, snapping his hip forwards instead. Sinking himself deep into her body in one swift thrust.

 

—-

 

There were stars bursting behind her eyes like a full tilt Fourth of July fireworks show. 

He’d stolen her hands, pinning them up above her head as he claimed dominion over her. A slow, rhythmic invasion that had her pleasure-wracked body rising all over again as he took charge.

It was delicious. An eager submission as she arched up to meet his every thrust. She felt safe in his hands.  _ Wanted. _ A fierce sort of possession in his gaze that made her head fall back and her eyes roll up. 

There was no need to think, to worry or try to control everything. Right now she could just  _ feel _ , utterly abandoned to the sensations he pulled from her like a magician pulling rabbits from a hat.

His lips parted over hers, grazing kisses over her gasping mouth. His tongue thrusting slow and hot inside of her, perfectly in time with their bodies as he stole the oxygen from her lungs.

She could swear she feel his heartbeat in her chest, a phantom pulse of feeling echoing her own. It was like that moment in the forest where his magic had combined with hers. Blending and mixing until they were one unit. One being.

His hands tightened around her wrists, swallowing her moans like wine as he tilted his hips. Driving deeper, harder, filling her until she could barely breathe. Her nerves were strung out, over sensitive and screaming. The pleasure teetering on the edge of pain as it built against her spine once more. A steady spiralling pulse that had her writhing as he took her over and over without pause.

“My Darcy,” he whispered into her mouth, “my only one, are you close, beloved?”

“Yes,” someone had stolen her voice and replaced it with a croak, her fingers flexing as he held her taught beneath him. She wanted to touch him, to curl her hands into his hair, his skin, “so close, so-”

She could feel his smile, feel the heat of his gaze even with her eyes screwed tight against the pleasure. The desperate  _ need  _ that threatened to overwhelm her again even as she struggled against it. It was too much, too  _ good _ , she didn’t know if she could survive it.

“Good, beloved, that’s good,” he murmured, hands tightening around her wrists as he drove deeper and deeper still, “now,  _ come for me. _ ”

She broke.

Lost in a howl of pleasure she wasn’t quite sure was human as it tore through her. Tossed over the edge by a single sentence. 

It swallowed her whole, an endless golden pulse of sensation that wiped everything and anything from her but this moment. Here. Him. She could hear him praising her through the blood roaring in her ears, each sweet word jolting through her spine. A delicious sting of pleasure as she lost herself in a supernova. 

Alive. She was  _ alive _ . 

She felt it in every thrust of his body against hers, in the way he picked up speed. Working harder and faster. Heard it in every word even as they turned to grunts and groans. Abject desperation as he shuddered over her.

Following her into the abyss.

It wasn’t until she was caught in his arms, sweat soaked and so satisfied she could barely breathe that she realised they had finished at all. Her body still trapped in the aftershocks of a pleasure unlike any she’d ever known.

“Did I…” she swallowed thickly, voice husky from screaming his name, “did I ever mention how good you were at this sex thing?”

“It may have come up,” he replied, kissing her hair as she lay utterly boneless against him, “amongst other things.”

Thanos, Odin, and the whole Asgardian army could have shown up right then and she’d have been useless to do anything but stare. So it was probably a good thing for them that they didn’t.

Pulse dying down to an almost human speed she intertwined herself with Loki, holding fast as the thought of the outside world loomed over her like a storm cloud.  Beyond the doors of their room reality was waiting, dangerous and uncertain.  

But that was outside. Here it was just them.

Just this.

Even if it couldn’t last forever, it was enough for her.

“Does this mean we can eat now?” She asked when she managed to catch her breath, head thumping against his chest with a laugh, “like  _ food,  _ please?”

“Your wish is my command, my lady.”

  
  


—-

  
  


He could have lived forever in this moment if fate had let him.

He’d summoned a tray of food from the kitchen, laying it on the end of the bed and chuckling when Darcy dove towards it. She’d lain out beside it on her belly in the rumpled sheets, his shirt hanging from her shoulders, feet kicking happily behind her as she picked at the food. The fabric rose high on her thighs, stirring him even now.

The thought of anyone getting between them made his chest bleed. Reality a cruel shadow that circled ever closer to his thoughts, the spectre of Odin looming over him as he reached out to stroke the smooth skin of her calf.

“I could kill him you know.”

“Hmm?” Darcy glanced back at him, her lips fastened around a plump red grape.

“Odin.” Loki whispered, fixing his eyes to hers and not looking away, “I could kill him.”

Her eyebrows rose, something uncertain passing across her face as she slowly chewed and swallowed.

“I’m sure you could,” she said carefully, pulling herself up into a sitting position and twisting to face him, “but that doesn’t mean you should.”

“He’s a threat to you.”

Hey eyes crinkled just slightly, “So is an open bar but I don’t see anyone stabbing at them.”

_ “Darcy.”  _ There was a desperation in his voice he didn’t recognise, a need to make this right before it went wrong again.

“Listen, Loki,” she reached for him, fingers warm against his shoulder as she looked up at him seriously, “I know he’s fucked up, he’s treated you hideously over the years and I would  _ never _ ask you to forgive him for it. But I don’t think patricide is the answer.”

“Then what is?” He asked, pressing a hand to the warmth of her cheek, “do we run? There are ways, we could-”

“ _ You _ could,” she cut him off, her breath catching as she turned her face into his palm, “and I’ll help you do it and find you after, but first I have to face him. I made a promise, a promise I bet Jane’s life on. No matter what happens next I have to see it through. I’m… I’m sorry, Loki.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Elskan Min,” he murmured, leaning forward and resting his forehead against hers, breathing her in as the pain between his ribs throbbed, “if you go, I go.“

“But-”

“Remember,” he shushed her, pulling back with a sigh, “we have established you’re not allowed to do stupid things without me.”

Her lips pursed, a smile twitching at her cheeks as she pressed a fast kiss to his palm.

“Charmer,” she said, her brightness fading just a little as she pulled her legs up underneath her. Her fingers toyed with the hem of her stolen shirt, “What… what do you think he’ll do to us?”

The question had haunted him since they’d left, pushed to the back of his thoughts as they’d gone from one drama to another but there nevertheless. Waiting.

He remembered the chains, the dungeons, the threat of the axe against his neck. Thor was sent to Midgard for his crimes, Loki locked away for his. Eternity alone, without a single person he cared for.

Was it weakness that part of him, the smallest, most shrivelled depth of his soul, thought that perhaps Odin would be kinder this time? The belief had once been strong in him, living hand in hand with the desperate need to please the man he’d once called father.

Now only the dried husk remained, whispering false hopes to him. _Odin had raised him for fifteen hundred years_ , it said, _had even claimed to love him even. Surely he couldn’t possibly be so cruel as to destroy his son’s happiness now he had found it at last?_

The thoughts were knives, if he clung to them he’d only make himself bleed. He had to plan instead, craft clever words to protect her and hope an answer would present itself when the time was right. 

“I don’t know,” he replied at last, gathering her to him and kissing her again, tasting the fruit on her tongue. So sweet it should be forbidden to a sinner like him, “but whatever happens you must not fear, I will never let anything bad befall you.”

“You either,” she murmured, “we’re in this together.”

It was a novel feeling, to know he was at last no longer alone. That he had found someone, somewhere, who accepted him exactly as he was with all the light and darkness he contained. But the joy was bittersweet. 

He promised her they would face it together but in his heart he knew that if it came down to it he would give his life for hers.

It was perhaps the only noble purpose his life had ever served. 

 


	36. Judgement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe we’re actually here guys, the final proper chapter 😭😭😭  
> I just... I really hope you like it!!!

 

 

The guards were waiting at the bottom of the ramp when they landed. Ridiculously tall and shiny with their massive suits of armour and spears.

Darcy couldn’t help but balk, she'd been hoping Frigga might’ve been waiting to meet them but no luck. Just the guards. 

The very very _big_ guards.

Swallowing tightly she steeled her spine and stepped out of the ship, her hand clenched tight in Loki’s. She kept her head high. A few months ago she might have turned right around and headed for the hills, but things had changed. _She_ had changed.

Whatever happened now, no matter how terrifying, she could handle it.

“Jane Foster of Midgard,” the guard with the biggest, shiniest helmet said as he stepped forward, obviously the leader, “you face no charges here. You are free to leave, or, should you so wish, wait and observe the proceedings from the throne room.

The other guards filled the gap he’d left with a perfectly synchronized clank as Jane’s face hardened

 _Uh-oh_.

Darcy recognised that expression. It was the same look of mulish indignation Jane had gotten every time Darcy tried to make her leave a _super_ important experiment for food or rest for the first year of their acquaintance. The toy soldiers didn’t stand a chance against it.

“Jane,” Thor stopped her as she squared up to them, his hand dwarfing her shoulder as he shook his head gently at her, “please, it would make my heart glad to know you are safe.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” Jane answered, holding tight to his arm. That ridiculous beautiful warmth rising between them and making Darcy’s heart squeeze as she watched.

“You aren’t, Jane,” Thor murmured softly to her, taking her chin in his hand, “you never could. Now go, we will be together again soon.”

Jane turned to look at _her_ then, her mouth pressed into a tight line and water in her eyes. Darcy just nodded.

It would be easier knowing Jane was already safe, one less neck on the line. Darcy doubted Papa Odin would go too hard on golden boy Thor, which just left her and Loki in the firing line.

‘Cos of course it did. 

“Don’t do anything stupid without me,” Jane said stubbornly, her chin raised as she let one of the guards lead her away, “I’ll be right inside.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that to me?” Darcy muttered, aiming for levity as she shot a look at Loki, “am I that bad?”

“You picked up an infinity stone with your bare hands,” he replied dryly, squeezing her hand tighter, “it’s a miracle you’re still alive.”

“I’m not the one who took on a solo mission in the murder orchard without telling anyone.”

“But you did attempt to-” 

Whatever he was about to say was cut off, a thunderous _bang_ ringing in the air as shiny-helmet slammed his spear into the flagstones. Darcy couldn’t help but flinch, her magic rising warily as the guard stepped forward.

“Thor Odinson,” he intoned, glaring them into silence with sharp blue eyes, “and Loki Laufeyson, you will be taken to the royal holding cells at once. Darcy Lewis of Midgard, you will await your audience in the second antechamber.”

Oh shit. They were splitting them up. She hadn’t expected that, her heart stumbling as she looked back to Loki. She thought they’d drag them in together to face Odin’s wrath, all for one and that.

Instead it seemed like they were gonna divide and conquer. Which was a good idea really. 

Just not for them.

“This is a good sign,” Loki whispered, speaking fast as the guards broke off into formation. Four for each of them, “if you‘re not in a cell, you’re not a prisoner.”

“What about _you?”_ She hissed back, suddenly doubting all of her noble intentions as the middle set of guards dragged forward a heavy set of chains, “I can’t-”

“You can and you will, or I’ll make you.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” she shot back, anxiety threatening to choke her as she held tighter to his fingers. 

“ _Darcy,_ ” he almost growled her name, pulling free of her grasp only to catch her face in his hands. Holding her so close she could count his eyelashes, “this is not goodbye.”

Heat pricked behind her eyes, flushing down into her chest as he lowered his head and kissed her. A fierce press of lips and teeth that had her gasping, holding tighter even as he slipped through her fingers.

“Just- just be careful, okay?” She shouted after him as he offered himself up to the guards. Heart beating double time as she fought the urge to run after him even now, to slap the chains out of their hands and get the hell off this rock.

“I always am,” he winked at her over his shoulder before the facade fell over him. The perfect, unaffected prince as he followed Thor into the palace, “They won’t separate us long, Darcy Lewis, not if they wish to live to see the sunrise.”

“Romantic,” she huffed even as the words steadied her. 

He was right, it _wasn’t_ goodbye. Nothing Odin could do to them would make her believe that, not anymore.

Straightening her spine she turned to face her own detachment of soldiers. It was just them now. And her. All five of them standing awkwardly in the cold shadow of the palace.

“So…” she cleared her throat in the hush, “the second antechamber, huh?”

“Yes, Lady Darcy,” the leader of her gang said, his helmet not quite as big or shiny as the _head_ -head honcho but still pretty impressive nevertheless, “but first if you would be so kind.”

He stepped back, gesturing with a practised efficiency as his backup dancers lifted something heavy and clanking. 

Chains.

They had chains for her too.

 _‘Not a prisoner_ ’ her ass.

She swallowed down bile, holding her hands out dutifully as they approached. Her grin was forced, fixed to her face as they settled the collar about her neck, it was heavy and _cold._ Chafing at her skin as they locked it and drew a chain down to her wrists.

Maybe it was stupid but all she could think about were how intricate the golden links were. They were shaped like the branches of a tree, tiny apples carved into their folded boughs 

Then the shackles at her wrists closed, the lock clicking shut and leaving her unable to think at all. 

It was like someone had plunged her into ice water, lungs struggling for air as her skin seemed to shrink. An unbearable pressure pressing in on her as she fought for breath. 

Her magic. She couldn’t reach her magic. 

She struggled instinctively towards its golden pull, shoulders shaking as it sat dormant within her. A surface she couldn’t reach no matter how hard she kicked, leaving her with water in her lungs and needles behind her eyes.

Was this how Loki felt? How could he stand it?

How could _anyone_? 

 

—-

 

“Well this is eerily familiar,” Loki let his gaze drift around the throne room as he was marched in, making sure to appear utterly at ease even as his insides twisted and turned, “shall we begin then, _Allfather?”_

He’d been kept waiting for a half hour at least, minutes stretching into ice ages as he paced the cell. The guards ignored him and he ignored them.

Thor hadn’t had to wait of course, he’d been taken to the throne room as soon as they’d arrived. The first to meet the Odin’s judgement. He’d obviously survived it too, his brother standing to the side with Jane Foster, his head bowed as he watched with solemn eyes. 

He hadn’t been shackled.

He never was.

Turning away Loki swept his eyes to the other side of the dais where his mother stood at the foot of the steps. He swallowed compulsively, nodding his head just a little as she smiled at him. Her face warm but unreadable.

“I don’t think so, Loki,” Odin rumbled from his throne, seated high above the rest of them with Gungnir in hand. Hugin and Munin were perched at his shoulder, watching the proceedings with beady black eyes, “you did not escape alone, so you will not be judged alone. Bring in the other.”

_Darcy._

He strove to remain aloof, heart thundering as the great doors creaked open behind him. Perhaps this was a good sign, she was not a prisoner after all. This might well be a lenient judgement.

A sliver of hope rose inside him as he turned to greet her, it seemed they would be facing their judgement together after all. 

His blood ran cold, heart stopping dead at the sight of her. Her head was held high as she was marched into the room, bound neck to wrists in golden chains.

Shackled like a dog.

“ _No,”_ the word left him in a roar as he lunged towards her on instinct, distantly hearing his mother’s own noise of protest as he struggled against his restraints, “what insult is this! You _dare_ chain her?”

“It is only fitting,” Odin said, silencing them both with a wave of his hand, “I am not fool enough to underestimate either of your powers. She threatened to destroy my kingdom the last time we spoke.”

“You would have snuffed out the life of her closest companion,” Loki hissed, fighting against the guards as they yanked him into place, “is it not enough that she agreed to submit to your judgement? Even though she is of Midgard and should not be bound by our laws?”

“It is _our_ laws she broke,” Odin thundered, “that you _both_ broke. Midgardian or not, you are both here to answer for it.”

Loki bit his tongue, tasting copper as she drew up alongside him at last. Her skin was pale and bloodless, drawn with the weight of what they’d done to her.

He remembered all too well the first time they’d bound his magic, he’d almost fainted. Even now, with all his experience, he struggled beneath its pull. You never got used to it, the absolute _wrongness_ of being cut off from your powers. It was like severing a vital limb.

And besides, she had no combat training, without her magic she was at their mercy in a way he had never considered. Utterly vulnerable to them. 

And still she smiled at him.

“I can hear you, y’know,” she quipped under her breath to him, a faint tremor in her words he could feel all the way down to his marrow. Holding up her wrists she raised an eyebrow at him, “and to think I thought you were kinky.”

Her hands were shaking.

It was more than he could bear.

“Release her,” he said, turning to look up at Odin fully. He was a child once more, desperate and afraid in a way that ate at him from within, “ _please_ father, release her. If you wish to punish someone, let it be me.”

“Hey, no!” Darcy jerked forward, her chains scraping together as she reached for his arm. Hands closing around his sleeve and holding tight, “we said we’d do this together, elk boy.”

“I can’t let him hurt you, Darcy,” his wrists ached as he worked to take her hands in his, metal digging into his flesh as he held her gaze, “ _don’t_ ask me to.”

She looked ready to fight him, brow furrowed angrily even now. The fiercest soul he’d ever met, even without her powers.

“Why should I spare her?” Odin’s voice rolled over them like a wave, one eye gleaming cruelly as he surveyed his kingdom. Loki had never hated him more, nor been more desperate for his favour, “Why should I spare _either_ of you? You have defied my word, flouted my authority, and threatened the very safety of the realm with your actions.”

Loki bared his teeth, heart thundering in his throat as he glared up at the almighty Odin. Everything in his life had led up to this moment, every painful lie and hateful act. He had been King and prisoner, monster and man, and he didn’t regret a second of it. Not anymore.

“ _Because I love her.”_

The world seemed to echo in the wake of his admission. A deafening sort of silence ringing in his ears through the thunder of his own pulse.

“I…” he turned to her, sheer panic rushing in his veins in the wake of the revelation, “I love you.”

“Wow,” Darcy murmured, shaking hands rising to his face, “you are _such_ a drama king.”

Her smile could heal the sick and save the dying. Touching his cheek for a single, warm heartbeat she pulled away. Turning boldly, she lifted her chin high and looked up at Odin with fire in her gaze.

“Same here, Allfather, I’ll take your judgement. But hurt the man I love and I’m coming for you. Chains or not.”

The silence lingered, thick and cloying in the air as Odin watched, unmoving. His face was unreadable, stone-carved and stiff as he looked down at them with the weight of the ages.

When he spoke at last it was in a quiet rumble, gaze fixed intently on them, “I have heard you destroyed an infinity stone to keep it from falling into enemy hands.”

Loki swallowed hard, mind reeling at the sudden change in topic. His head was too full, steel sharp senses blunted by everything that had come to pass. He had to plan, had to say the right words in the right order and...

“We did,” Darcy replied first, shoulders rising in a shrug, “Thanos can keep his big sweaty purple hands to himself now.”

“Good.” Odin’s head swung towards him then, one bright blue eye pinning him in place more effectively than any spell. “I am pleased, son, that you have found a worthy partner at last, and that you have learned to value the lives of those you once sought to rule,” his hand clenched around Gungnir, using it to lever himself to his feet, “It is all a father should want for his sons, _both_ of them. I know you do not seek my recognition Loki, but you have it anyway. I am proud of you.”

Loki could do nothing but _gape._

The words bounced helplessly around his skull, twisting and turning in on themselves as he stared. He couldn’t make sense of them, heart pounding in his throat as he looked up and up at the Allfather.

Odin sighed, a heavy sound as he braced his spear against the marble floor, “But I am, as I have always been, more than a father. I am a King. You defied my laws and you must answer for it. Thor’s debt will be paid protecting the nine realms, yours will be a steeper price.”

The fog cleared, snapping out of his daze as Darcy tensed beside him in readiness. He held tighter to her, this is what they were expecting, this is what they had been waiting for. Holding firm as they faced the judgement together. 

Just like they said they would.

“I charge you thus, Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard and God of Mischief, and you, Darcy Lewis of Midgard, Goddess of Chaos,” Odin’s eye sparked, voice echoing off the high ceiling as he towered above them, “go forth from this place and find the location of as many infinity stones as you can. Protect them if you are called too, destroy them if you able. Rebalance the universe _and_ _save us all._ ”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left to go now guys 💜


	37. Onwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it gang, the finale! I really hoped you enjoyed this story half as much as I did writing it, I know some of you were a bit disappointed in the last chapter but hopefully this is an okay place to leave it💜
> 
> My forever thanks to RogueSareth for being such a supportive Beta, and DenseHumboldt for holding my hand all the way through this! And of course to you for reading and commenting, it means the world to me 🥰

 

Sunset on Asgard was unlike anything Darcy had ever seen before. The universe curled around the planet in an endless blanket of stars, the colours ever changing in the sky as it travelled from day into night.

In a thousand thousand years she could never get tired of it. Or the man who’d just pushed open her balcony doors, his familiar scent washing over her in the cool evening breeze.

Leather and wood and _super_ fancy cologne.

“I still can’t believe Odin let us off so easily,” she said, gaze fixed on the view as she braced her hands against the golden railing. All of Asgard laid out before them like a painting.

The judgement had hit her like a fist, a unique mixture of relief and adrenaline rushing through her as the guards released their shackles. Her head spinning dizzily as her magic returned all at once.

Everything after that was a daze. She remembered seeing Thor squeezing Loki’s shoulder and feeling Jane holding her hand. 

And then there was Odin.

He’d stood alone at the foot of the grand dais _,_ a tired old man leaning on his spear as he watched them from afar. His head turning as he caught Loki’s eye.

They looked at each other for a long moment, the air between them thick with a thousand years of unspoken issues that could never truly be healed. She’d turned away, not wanting to intrude, only to be swept into a hug by Frigga. Her former mentor murmuring something encouraging as she worked gentle spells of balance over her wrists to help resettle her magic.

That had been almost a week ago.

With no time limit placed on their quest Frigga had insisted they all stay and recuperate from their adventures before setting off again. 

“Let us off _easily?”_ Loki repeated as he moved behind her, a solid presence at her back as he wrapped his arms around her waist, “you call finding and destroying infinity stones _easy_ now, do you?” 

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” she teased, leaning into him as the sky danced above them, “and hey, I figured we’d be doing something like this anyway.”

After all, it wasn’t like she could go back to being an intern again, as much as she’d loved it at the time. That life just wasn’t hers anymore. Jane could take care of herself now and well, Darcy wanted _more._

Besides. It wasn't like she had an internship to go back to any more, even if she _had_ wanted too. Jane and Thor had decided to stay on Asgard until Jane had acclimatised fully to her new almost-immortality. Splitting their time afterwards between the planets as they worked together to protect the realms and bitch slap science. All whilst being stupidly in love.

“You thought we’d be off destroying infinity stones for fun?” Loki rested his chin against her shoulder, breath huffing against her cheek as she turned her face towards him, “You are the most peculiar woman.”

“Oh please,” she grinned, tracing her fingers along the back of his arms, “what else were we gonna do? Take up knitting?”

“I thought perhaps we could take over a planet or two,” he sighed, warmth flooding through her at the low murmur of his words against her ear, “become benevolent gods to a needy populace, maybe establish a dynasty to last a hundred thousand years.”

“We can do that after,” she tipped her head back, luxuriating in his warmth in the evening chill, “first I need a decent cup of coffee and a nap. Then we can save the universe, then _potentially_ rule it, if you behave yourself.”

“So to Midgard first then, beloved?”

“I think so, I saw the Time Stone there when I grabbed the Herdy Gimlet. I figure if we can bust that first it means Thanos can’t undo our hard work later.”

“Hmm, an excellent plan. And I think I might have just the thing to help facilitate our journey,” he pulled something from the air in front of her, holding it out like a present. A blue cube that fit perfectly into the palm of his hand. 

A _glowing_ blue cube.

“ _Loki,_ ” She warned, feeling the sinful softness of his hair brushing against her neck as she looked down at it, “that better not be what I think it is.”

“What?” He asked, practically angelic as he purred the words against her skin, “We were charged with finding infinity stones and look -  here I‘ve found one already. I’d say we were off to a great start, although I suggest we destroy this one last. It really is rather useful.”

“For real, dude,” she shook her head, turning in his arms so she could look at him properly at last, “we get given a second chance and the first thing you do is _steal_ that?”

He was entirely too handsome. He always had been, his green eyes alight with mischief as he kept one hand firm around her waist, the other holding the cube up between them.

“We would have had to of taken it eventually, besides, would you rather jump off a cliff again to get to Midgard?” His eyebrows rose, the corner of his mouth twitching ever so slightly in the threat of a smirk.

“With you?” She scanned him, a slow deliberate look that took him in from the top of his head to the bottom of his boots. All six foot lots of ridiculous, beautiful man, “I’ll jump off _anything_.”

Wrapping her hands into the neck of his shirt she pulled him down to her level, pressing her lips to his. His split-second of surprise was lost quickly to her hungry mouth, his hold tightening as he surged eagerly against her. 

Her breath caught, heart fluttering stupidly in her chest as he deepened the kiss. Lathing his tongue against hers in an incredibly underhanded method of persuasion that had her knees melting like popsicles.

When they finally broke apart Darcy was gasping, exhaling on a laugh as she wrapped her arms fully around his neck, “but yeah fine, let’s use the glowy box thing this time.”

“Onwards to our next _adventure,_ then?” He asked, practically glowing in the sunset as he held the cube up teasingly.

Adrenaline rushed through her at the word, at the thought of the challenge to come. Because it _would_ be a challenge, no doubt about it. But one she wouldn’t have to face alone.

Grinning, she nodded, “Onwards, my giant elk!”

  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this!
> 
> Please do consider leaving a little comment if you enjoyed the story - they mean the absolute world to me! 💜


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